A Series of Connecting the Dots
by Digitallace
Summary: A joint fic by Digitallace & DreamingInColour. Switching between Draco Digitallace and Harry DreamingInColour to form a turbulent story, where Harry and Draco are each trying to manipulate the other. How will it turn out? Not even the authors know!
1. Draco: Gloom & Doom

**Authors Note:** If you tend to skip over these, please **READ THIS** one, it will be helpful I promise. Okay, so this story is written by both myself and my friend Laurel (DreamingInColour). This chapter in Draco's POV is mine and it will start out the challenge we've issued to one another. From there we will alternate chapters with her writing chapter 2 in Harry's POV and so on and so forth. We both have vague ideas of where we'd like to see the story head, but the other author could easily thwart that, so this story will be full of twists, turns and surprises for the boys, the readers and even us! We'll be posting the story on both our accounts, so you can choose where to leave a message and review (and we've given each other permission, so no one freak out when they see the story/chapter duplicated! lol)

Many thanks to Robert who is acting as impartial beta for our story! We love him! And now on with the story, please enjoy!

**Chapter 1 –Draco- Gloom & Doom**

The manufactured sky in the great hall mirrored my mood better than I could have ever imagined possible, almost like the castle had a door directly into my soul.

It was gray and gloomy and the stormy color of the clouds matched my eyes perfectly, as everything should. The sun was barely visible behind the clouds, but the persistent rays of somber light continued to shine through in spite of it.

It hadn't been the best of mornings, and it was rapidly getting worse with each breath I took. First I woke up with a headache that refused to cease regardless of the number of potions I took for it, then Goyle wouldn't stop droning on and on about his infatuation with Clarissa Brighton, a fourth year Ravenclaw he had stumbled into after Divination last week. He wouldn't listen when I tried to explain to him that even a _first_ year Ravenclaw had intellect far superior to his own and that he would never get the girl to even look at him, let alone fall for him.

He had the nerve to lecture me about relationships being based on love not brains, as if he had ever had even one girlfriend before. Not that I really had either, but that was because I chose to remain unattached. I was observant, and I could see when a person was clearly no match for another, whether it be mentally or physically. Goyle was no match for Clarissa on either front.

To top all that off, they had muffins at the tables for breakfast, and as I rounded the corner of the Slytherin table I was forced to watch as Blaise Zabini stole the last blueberry one from the basket, leaving only banana-nut. I loathe nuts on muffins. I was forced to watch as he popped bite after bite into his mouth, staining his lips blue while he smirked over at me. He knew they were my favorite, the only breakfast served at Hogwarts that I truly enjoyed. I don't know what it is about them; maybe it's something to do with the warm buttery texture melting against my tongue or the way the juicy blueberries nearly pop when you bite into them. All of it gone down his gluttonous throat and I was left sitting at the table furiously picking the offensive nuts from my muffin, a sour look on my face for sure, when Potter walked into the great hall looking as smug and heroic as ever.

It was disgusting.

If that wasn't bad enough the magical ceiling chose that exact moment to morph into a brilliant sunny spring morning, as if it were heralding Potter's very presence in the room.

I groaned and Pansy shot me a concerned glance, but I waved her quickly away. She was like an annoying house elf, always trailing after me, trying to insinuate herself in my life in any way she could. It made me wonder if I could talk her into doing my class assignments and what it might cost me in return. The price would most likely be too high to pay; I knew her brand of currency was sexual.

Not that I didn't appreciate my fair share of sexual favors. I didn't find any of the girls at Hogwarts particularly attractive, Pansy included but I had no qualms with using them to fill my needs. That, however, was the extent of our arrangements.

I continued to glare at Potter from across the room, hoping that a small iota of my hatred would create some sort of a physical manifestation and do the boy actual harm. It never worked previously, though, and today was no different.

He was sitting to the left of Granger and no one was on his right, which was odd considering that usually he sat wedged between her and the Weasel. This morning the slug belching git was on the other side of her, furthest from Potter. Neither of them was talking to the Gryffindor Golden Boy. In fact, most of the table looked downright angry with him.

Peculiar.

It was made even more peculiar when the Weasel twins walked over. They got up from their own places further down the table and came to sit next to Potter, one on either side of him, nudging Hermione gently out of the way. I had seen the predatory way the boys would go after their latest victims before, but never directed at Potter, or _any_ of their friends for that matter.

Everyone thought that the boy's dropped out before the end of their seventh year, opting to go out with a bang instead. A literal one even, made of fireworks and screaming Ministry Professor's and everything, but rumor had it, Mrs. Weasley _made_ them come back. Not only did they have to retake their exams, she arranged for them to have to retake their entire seventh year because of their shenanigans. I would have loved to be a fly on the wall of the Burrow that day.

It was common knowledge amongst the Slytherin's that the twins would team up to conquer someone they found fascinating, and who could be more fascinating than Scarhead himself? Still, when the boys were through, they usually left their target in anguish and social ruin, so why they would attack a fellow housemate and friend was beyond my grasp.

Not even Slytherin's did that… often.

It was made worse when Fred – or was it George, I could never tell them apart – leaned in closer and rubbed his hand smoothly up and down Potter's leg. I could see Potter's shoulders tense, but that was the only sign that the boy had even felt the caress.

Then he turned slightly and I could see his blush. Not just a slight pinking of the cheeks as he got when he was publicly reprimanded and humiliated by Professor Snape, but a full on scarlet blush.

Potter _liked_ the touch.

The other twin's hand slinked up the back of Potter's shirt and even from where I sat I could see the shiver that ran up his spine.

I blinked rapidly trying to make sense of this new information. The twins attack, the indifference of the other Gryffindor students, the snarling looks that Ron kept shooting Potter.

It all clicked quickly and firmly into place.

Potter must be gay and somehow the Gryffindor students had been made privy to the information and obviously they didn't like the idea. The very notion that the savior of the wizarding world was in fact a flaming poof was comical, but surely his own housemates would be more understanding of his sexual preference?

But it was the only explanation I could see.

George - or maybe Fred - proceeded to whisper something in Potter's ear, which elicited a different reaction from the boy altogether. He clearly didn't like what the other boy had said, as he got up from the table and stormed from the great hall followed by roaring laughter from the twins and a few other students at their house table.

Something about this infuriated me. _I_ should be the only one able to create such reactions in the boy. _I_ am his arch nemesis, after all. Some would say that his enemy is The Dark Lord; but no, it's me.

I've been there in the background, taunting him and manipulating him the entire time. I am his antithesis, the yin to his yang, the dark to his light, the evil to his good. We are forever bound together in this twisted dance of loathing.

It's the only thing I'm good at really, since, according to my father, I've rather failed as both a Slytherin and a Malfoy. This should still be mine though. I should be the only one who can make his brilliant green eyes flare with fury; I should be the only one who can make him storm away in anger, and _I_ should be the _only_ one permitted to mock him behind his back.

The twins were moving in on my territory and I didn't like it one bit, but at least I now had another weapon for my arsenal, something fresh to taunt the golden boy with. The dead parents and scarhead comments were getting stale, so maybe now I could use this newfound information to draw Potter into me, like a fly to a spider.

I could make him fall for me and then I could spring on him, leaving him weak and defenseless just as my father had hoped I would do our first year. There was time yet to redeem myself in my father's eyes.

Time yet to take down the famous Harry Potter.

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It didn't take long before my suspicions were confirmed. Rumors were already flying around the potions classroom about Potter's preference to cock. I even allowed myself to indulge in a fantasy or two while I gathered my materials.

I could clearly envision Potter's lips around my growing erection, head bobbing up and down in my lap, and then the humiliation as I told everyone at school, or better yet, I could release the memory footage to the _Daily Prophet_.

The very idea of Potter – Gryffindor's Golden Boy – taking it up the arse by the son of a Death Eater would keep me going for weeks. Though it couldn't just be _any_ Death Eater's son, no, it had to be me.

I'm not gay or anything, but the distinction means little to me. A hole is a hole, and if I can do something that will hurt Potter, while pleasuring myself, all the better.

I needed to be the one to conquer him. _I_ needed to be the one to break his virgin arse.

If it was even still virginal at all – and I desperately hoped it was. Still, I needed to find out for sure. He was discovered after all, so who knows, maybe he was caught in the act, but more likely he was just caught kissing or groping another boy.

It did stand to reason however, that someone already had a leg up on me so far as the seduction of innocent Harry Potter was concerned. I needed to find out more about what happened.

"Pansy," I whispered. She was always the two-faced queen of gossip, so if anyone knew the entire story by now it would be her. She leered at me and scooted closer. "Have you heard anything on the Potter scandal?" I asked her.

She guffawed, and it sounded partly like the braying of a donkey and partly like a choking duck. "Do I? Oh you'll never guess," she giggled, and I repressed the urge to make her hurry with her explanation. One couldn't seem too eager, people might start asking questions. Rumors have started over much smaller things in this school. "Apparently he was caught last night with Michael Corner behind the greenhouses."

"Caught doing what?" I asked impatiently.

"Kissing," she replied in a whisper.

"Is that all?" I demanded, a little too anxiously.

Pansy frowned and started looking suspicious. "Isn't that enough?" she asked.

"Of course, but I was just hoping he got caught doing something worse," I lied. A kiss I could counter, if they had been caught in a more intimate situation, there might be more competition there.

"Well, that's true. It would have been loads funnier if they caught Potter with his pants down, so to speak," she giggled.

"Who caught them?" I asked.

"The Weasel-ette," she replied.

"Really?" That was just too precious. Everyone knew that Ginevra and Potter were an item, or at least had been recently, probably right up until last night.

"Yes," she giggled again. "Apparently seeing Potter with one of her exes drove her a little batty and she went running for her brothers."

Well that explained the twin attack at breakfast, no doubt Ginevra's protective older brothers wanted to make Potter suffer. It also explained Ron's hateful looks.

Well, I would have preferred it to be a Hufflepuff he fell for, because that would have supplied the least amount of resistance, but I was up for the challenge a Ravenclaw might give. Would Michael fight for Potter, or would I have a clean shot at his heart?

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The class began to settle and Snape floated into the room like a giant bat. The man only had grace when he walked or when he brewed; he was otherwise tactless and vile. My father said once that he had always been that way, even as a boy.

It was odd to think of Professor Snape as anything other than the stern teacher he was now. It was nearly impossible to fathom him dating, or getting married, or having children. Perhaps those things were just not in the cards for my favorite professor.

"Silence," Snape shouted, even though it was unnecessary. The moment he stepped into the room, the students all fell into a unanimous hush.

"Today we'll be working in pairs to brew the Draught of Living Death. You can find the instructions beginning on page ten of your textbooks," he drawled.

As he spoke, ingredients began listing on the blackboard behind him and students began scribbling furiously. I wasn't terribly worried, because I had studied this potion over the summer and knew the instructions front to back, as well as the _proper_ method of brewing.

"Now, break into teams and gather your ingredients," he commanded and with swirl of billowing black robes, went to his seat.

My face split into a wide smirk as I saw Potter avoid the gaze of his partnered up friends and look around the classroom. All the Gryffindor's ignored him outright, which left a Slytherin as his only choice.

My usual partner was Blaise, and he was in the nurse's office with an uncanny case of diarrhea, most likely from the blueberry muffin he stole from me. It's peculiar because the school's food doesn't normally make students sick, but it simply had to be the breakfast, because it couldn't _possibly_ have anything to do with that tiny little curse I threw at him for stealing my muffins.

I swear it couldn't. No way in hell.

Either way, it left Potter and I as the only two students in class without partners and a perfect opportunity for me to set my plan into action.

When Potter's brilliant green eyes flicked to mine I faltered for a moment. How had I never noticed the gemstone quality of his eyes before? He had certainly glared at me enough with them over the past several years. But I needed to compose myself, and quickly. For what I was about to do I needed complete concentration. It was only the idea of finally owning Potter that caused me to let my thoughts linger too long on his eyes, but that was irresponsible of me.

I was getting too arrogant, too sure of my victory before I had even started the game. I needed to focus and let all other frivolities fall to the wayside. Things like staring into Potter's stunning green eyes would have to wait until they were filled with tears because of me.

Yes, those eyes brimming with sorrowful tears would look just like precisely cut emeralds.

I pasted what I hoped to be a pleasant smile on my face and motioned for Potter to join me at my table. It might even give me an advantage to have him sitting at a desk surrounded by Slytherins.

Potter picked up his things and grudgingly came to sit beside me. The chair made an awful scraping noise and all the students – previously occupied gathering ingredients from the pantry – stared at the two of us. Professor Snape looked up and a slow smirk curled at the edge of his lips. No doubt he was thinking of all the ways I would torture his least favorite student through the duration of this project. If only he knew.

The glare Potter shot the Professor would have melted a lesser man in his seat, but Potter was always under the assumption that every man was less than him. That was my biggest problem with the boy. He walked around like he owned the world, and in a way he did, which only made his attitude that much worse. However, it wouldn't be that way for long.

Potter moved his chair as far from mine as he could while still remaining at the same table, and gripped the edge of the desk like he might break it off. "Let's get this over with," he grumbled under his breath.

I managed to stifle a laugh at his discomfort, but only barely. "So how did the Gryffindor mascot end up partnered with me?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

The hurt look in his eyes was unexpected, but I filed it away for later processing. I expected him to feel betrayed by his fellow housemates, but not to the point that he would so easily express it to me.

But it was then that I realized that Potter's eyes were the key. They would tell me far more than the boy's mouth would relay.

"Sod off, Malfoy," he responded, proving my previous point.

I held up my arms in defense and shook my head sadly. "You injure me, Potter. I was only trying to be friendly." I wanted to laugh out loud at the sheer absurdity of a my attempting to make friends with someone like Potter, but it was all part of the plan, and if I was going to seduce someone like him then I had a very specific part to play.

Potter sighed and rolled his eyes. "Not that it's any of your business, but I'm sure you're well aware of what's going on with me: don't be coy, Malfoy. It doesn't suit you."

Coy actually suits me as nicely as Armani dress robes, but I didn't need to let him in on the act. "I'm not being coy, Potter. Do you really expect the entire school to keep track of the great Harry Potter's social interactions?"

He looked suitably chagrined for a moment, but switched gears almost at once, throwing me slightly off balance. "If you don't keep track of such things, then why did you ask?"

Touché.

"I merely observed that every Gryffindor in this class ignored you and left you to the wolves, so to speak," I replied with a perfectly wolfish grin.

Potter rolled his eyes again, but looking closely I saw a hint of a smile twitch his lips, probably involuntary. It was progress, something of which I would take any and all I could get. "And I suppose in this scenario that you would be the wolf?" Potter asked.

"Undoubtedly," I replied with a flourish of my hand, sort of bowing in my chair. "Could you ever think otherwise?" I asked with a delicate eyebrow raised in question, leaning just a bit closer than necessary to get my point across. I relished in the expression of shock that flittered through his gaze at my words. Hopefully soon I would be experiencing a similar view of surprise when I tore him apart.

He really seemed to think about my question, which surprised me. I expected a biting remark, or a scathing comment just whipping from his thoughtless mouth. "I think I could be persuaded to think otherwise," he said at last, and thankfully he turned quickly away so that he didn't see my jaw hit the floor.

Had he really just said that? Had he already given plausibility to my scheme? This was too easy. I quickly composed myself and looked at him, but he was still turned away. When he turned back I could see the remaining traces of a blush on his cheeks and his eyes sparkled in a new way and I mentally frowned, though outwardly kept my cool and mysterious mask.

He was getting ahead of the schedule. If this went too fast it would fizzle out just as quickly. I needed to prolong his fascination with me, have him be the chaser, so that when it all came crumbling down around him he would have no one but himself to blame for his heartache.

"But I _am_ the wolf, Potter. Don't forget that," I said with a mysterious air. Let him dwell on that for a minute.

Potter's face broke out into a thoughtful expression and I nodded in satisfaction, leaving him to stew on that piece of information as I went to the supply closet for the needed potion ingredients.

I had gathered the asphodel and the wormwood and was looking for the valerian root when Snape skulked into the pantry behind me, shutting the door and basking us in near darkness. "Professor," I acknowledged, interested to hear what my mentor had to say.

"What are you doing with Potter?" he asked, lips curling into a heavy frown at the name.

"I wouldn't possibly know what you're talking about, Professor," I replied as taught.

"I hope you know what you're doing. A slip up at this stage could mean your neck, or even your mother's," he snarled.

I stood up straighter and gave Snape the full weight of my gaze. "I know what's at risk, Professor. This is my chance to set things right," I told him, and it was true.

My father was out of Azkaban, but just barely, and my home was under constant Auror surveillance. Still, they never even noticed that Voldemort came and went as he pleased, threatening my parents as well as any other Death Eater he could get hold of.

And now I was amongst his ranks, his Dark Mark hidden under my robes. Nothing was expected of me until after I graduated this summer, but I wanted to secure my place at the top, rather than work my way up his ladder of minions slowly after I graduated. If I could deliver him Potter, then I would prove to be even more valuable than my father. And if I could have a bit of fun in the process, then why not?

It would truly be fun breaking Potter.

"A package from your father arrived this morning. I'll put it in the usual place," Snape said, pressing the valerian root and sopophorous beans into my palm. "Don't fall for his tricks," he warned.

"Potter?" I scoffed. "He has no tricks. He's a Gryffindor remember?"

Snape shook his head. "Not completely," he replied mysteriously and left the room with a sudden swirl of robes.

What the hell was that supposed to mean? Not _completely_?

I blinked against the sudden onslaught of light and made my way back to the table, pleased to note that Potter still looked perplexed over my parting words.

"What did _he_ want?" Potter asked as soon as I sat down, as if it were naturally his business. Sure technically we were talking about him, but can't a person talk behind another persons back without them getting nosey?

"He just wanted to make sure I was going to make your day sufficiently miserable," I told him, which wasn't an altogether lie, and something Potter would probably eat up.

"Is that your plan?" he asked me.

I only shrugged, letting him think what he wanted.

"Because if it is, you could do a better job," he added with a smirk.

A smirk? That was unacceptable. Smirks had no place on faces like Potter's, or any Gryffindor for that matter.

"He said something in there, that was a little odd," I began. It was important not to give away our conversation, but I could give him a tidbit in order to ease my own curiosity. Potter looked shocked that I would tell him anything, but he listened quietly. "He said you weren't completely a Gryffindor. What in the world does that mean?"

A bark of laughter escaped his lips and he turned away. "He _would_ know about that."

"Know about what?" I asked.

Potter looked reluctantly at his own feet for several minutes and didn't look like he was going to answer, so I shrugged dramatically and sighed. "It's okay, Potter. You don't have to tell me, it's probably personal," I goaded.

He looked over and scrutinized me for a moment and then after a quick nod of his head began speaking. "It _is_ a little personal but… no real harm in you knowing I suppose. Do you remember the Sorting?" he asked me.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, of course I remembered our first day of school, the day he declined my hand in friendship, and instead nodded with interest.

He blushed slightly and rolled his eyes. "Sorry, of course you remember being sorted. That was a stupid question," he said, and I wasn't going to argue. "Well, I was almost sorted into Slytherin."

"Almost? How do you _almos_t get sorted into a house? The Sorting Hat always knows exactly where to put you," I stated plainly. It knew precisely which house to put me in. I never heard a case of the hat getting it wrong. What if Potter had been sorted into my house? How would things have been different? Would he be on our side of the war? Would he and I _really_ be friends?

The possibilities were endless, and each one was more mind boggling than the last.

Potter only shrugged. "I can only tell you what happened to me. The hat said I would be a great wizard and that Slytherin could help me along to achieve that greatness. I told it no, that I would rather be in any other house, and after giving me several chances to change my mind, it finally put me in Gryffindor."

I had no idea what to say about that. "That's ridiculous, Potter. Why wouldn't you listen to the Sorting Hat? You could have ruined your entire life by ignoring it," I said, and it was true. If it said Potter would have been great with Slytherin's help, then maybe Potter would end up being a Ministry janitor now.

The thought almost made me laugh.

He made a face that looked between a frown and a laugh. "I doubt it has ruined my entire life," he said, but then looked around the room and grimaced. "Or at least, I would have said that yesterday."

"What did you do anyhow?" I asked, wanting to hear it from the horse's mouth.

"You just assume it was something I did?" he asked, seemingly offended. For a moment I even thought Pansy had been mistaken in her gossip.

I just shrugged casually. "It seemed the most plausible explanation since they're all mad at you, and _you_ look guilty," I added with a grin.

Potter rolled his eyes. "Well it was me this time, though, usually it isn't," he was quick to add.

"Are you going to make me ask again? Or do I just need to ask one of the gossiping Slytherin girls for the dirt on your bad behavior?" I asked, laughing to myself.

Potter sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I cheated on Ginny," he said at last.

It surprised me that he cut to the quick of it instead of lingering the story out to make himself seem like the victim. "Is that all?" I offered, trying to establish the possibility that I could be on _his_ side.

He just stared at me incredulously. "Isn't that enough?"

"For your entire house to turn against you? Hardly. Even Slytherin's are more loyal than that. I thought you were their poster child?" I replied.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm only their hero when it suits them, and most of the time I'm just some freak who shares their common room."

That was certainly interesting insight to the daily life of the boy who lived. "Would you like for me to talk to them?" I asked, having no intentions whatsoever to do so.

"Yeah, would you?" Potter replied with a genuine looking smile. My own smile faltered and he started to laugh. "I was kidding. I'm sure that would do about as much good as if I let them all fuck me."

I dropped the silver knife I had been using to crush the beans. The textbook said to cut them, but my father had taught me the proper method over the summer. Potter's statement startled me, but I realized that luckily it should have also startled the Draco in the part I was playing.

He laughed and blushed. "Sorry. I forgot to tell you the other bit. They are also mad because I cheated on Ginny with a boy."

My inner manipulator patted me on the back. "I had no idea," I said with genuine awe. I hadn't known it was even possible for the Gryffindor Golden Boy to prefer cock until just that very morning.

"No one did, except Mike," he responded.

"Mike?" I asked.

"Michael Corner, my boyfriend," he stated simply. "Or at least he was until all this blew up, now I'm not so sure."

"I don't know what to say, Potter. I thought I knew all the gay boys in Hogwarts, but I never suspected you _or _Corner," I mused out loud, letting my words sink in.

"Are you… are you saying that you're gay?" Potter asked.

Ah yes, here was the talent for jumping to conclusions I had so counted on. All I had to do was smile in order to confirm his speculations. I never had to say that I was gay, or anything of the sort. Potter was making this far too easy.

At my own smile, Potter practically beamed. "Well I guess we have more in common than I thought," he said.

"We just might," I said, still smiling and still not giving anything away.

The progress I was making today was beyond anything I could have imagined possible. Potter's entire class turning against him must have really struck a nerve to get him to open up to someone like me.

But maybe it was more than that. Maybe the attraction was already kicking in, making him less cautious than he would have otherwise been. Only one way to know for sure.

He was stirring the potion counter-clockwise as the books instructed and I placed my hand gently over his, not looking at him directly, but watching his reactions carefully out of my peripheral. "Do you trust me?" I said in the barest of whispers.

His whole body went ridged but eventually he nodded and after the sixth stir I changed the direction to clockwise for one stir, then changed it back for the remaining six, then back again for one stir. All the while Potter was staring at me like a salivating puppy in heat.

"How did you know to do that?" he asked when the potion turned the right shade of pale lilac. Looking around the class I noticed most of the other cauldrons contained horrendously different colored potions… if you could even still call them potions.

"I take private lessons in potions over the summer. I enjoy this subject a great deal," I answered honestly. An ounce of truth mixed into a cauldron full of lies, the result would be an infatuated Potter.

He turned up his nose slightly, but otherwise seemed unaffected by my statement. The silence stretched between us, and class was almost over. I needed him to suggest walking to the next class with me, needed enough people to see us together that it would get back to Corner.

As Snape stood to put our potions into stasis, I turned to Potter and let my hand fall over his as I gathered my things. I made it look like an accidental gesture, but when I looked into his face, I could tell the effect was not lost on him.

"We'll finish the potions tomorrow, some of you will need to start over," Professor Snape snarled, glaring balefully as Longbottom in particular. "You are dismissed for today."

Potter's eyes hadn't left mine for even a moment as Snape spoke and the flush to his cheeks was unusually bright. "So what do you have next?" he asked suddenly.

It was difficult to refrain from smiling as his absurd question. We'd had the same schedule as one another since first year, but since he was following my plan, I refrained from calling him on it. "Divination," I responded easily.

He made a face that resembled one that my father had slapped me for making after tasting a particularly bad batch of caviar but nodded and flushed again. Making Potter blush wasn't even a challenge anymore. "Me too," he muttered.

I waited for the words of him asking to walk with me, but they never came and I resisted the urge to pout. I seemed to be resisting a lot of things today. As I gathered up my things and made move to leave the class, he trailed behind me.

Snape shot me a suspicious look as I walked passed him and I left, wondering if Potter was going to join me or walk the entire way to the Astronomy tower ten paces behind me.

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Authors Note: I hope you had a bit of fun reading this. Non-cursed blueberry muffins to all who review and look out for Laurel's update of Harry's POV in chapter 2 coming to a fiction site near you.


	2. Harry: My New Life

Authors Note: If you didn't read the authors note at the start of chapter one, please do so now or else you might get lost in the premise of this story....

This chapter was not written by me, it was written by Laurel (DreamingInColour) and can be found on her profile as well. I'm writing Draco's POV and she's doing Harry (heh, dirty) and we're alternating back and forth but wanted to be kind to our readers and post in both places so that you wouldn't need to switch back and forth... and who was it that called me the empress of Evil? lol. I can be thoughtful occasionally... I just don't make a habit of it. Many thanks to our faithful beta (Robert, Ragnarok45) who has worked on this story for both of us in order to provide and balanced and unbiased opinion!

Chapter 2 – Harry – My New Life

I've had to think about my life a lot in the last few hours, more than I ever have before. It's always been too hard to think about my life, it's always been easier just to live it. Hermione would say – and I would have to agree – that if I thought about things too hard, the whys and the what ifs, I would drive myself mad. Of course, I'm not sure she'll be saying that to me anymore, I'm not sure she'll be saying much of anything to me anymore. You see I fucked up my life pretty badly yesterday.

Quite apart from that though is that my so-called 'friends' have completely abandoned me. Yes, I made a mistake and I mean who the hell hasn't made mistakes? But for people – two in particular – who have risked their lives with me and for me, you'd think they'd be a little more supportive even if they didn't understand, even if they didn't approve. Apparently not.

But here I am now walking the long path to Divination behind the one person I safely thought I would hate forever wondering what new possibilities he could open up for me. I think he is the key to my new life, my new future. But I'm jumping ahead of myself I think. Let me go back to the moment that has changed my whole life.

It was late last night and I had arranged to meet my secret boyfriend Mike Corner behind Greenhouse 3 – our usual spot. I remember having hot flushes as I made my way quietly through the castle under my invisibility cloak, I was already hard in anticipation of my meeting with Mike since I knew we were taking things 'to a new level'. Tonight we were going to have full and proper sex. Mike and I had been together since mid-last year. I got to know him a little when he was dating Ginny and we started fooling around just kissing and touching every now and then – just experimenting, you know? – it didn't mean anything. It was always several weeks between our meetings and months before we actually explored each other to orgasmic completion. I remember overhearing Ginny crying to Hermione near the end of last year about how she was going to break up with Mike soon because he was always distracted and never seemed interested in her physically or sexually. I felt my face burn the entire time and I knew her relationship had been ruined because of me.

After that I think I subconsciously wanted to make amends with her and I began to spend – now that I think about it – too much time with her, I began to pay too much attention to her and before I knew it I was in a relationship with her that I felt obligated to be a part of because of my ties to Ron and her family. In the meantime Mike had approached me at the start of this year and had stated – in no uncertain terms – that he wanted me in a way that made me shiver with pleasure. It was far too tempting to refuse, and my body desired him in a way that it had never desired Ginny. I yearned to be satisfied and knew that my satisfaction lay with him, so I did something I never ever thought I would do: I cheated. Several times. I cheated on Ginny so many times that it became normal in a sick sort of way.

Last night she caught me with him. Lucky for me she caught us in the first few seconds and I hadn't had time to remove him from his clothes – she only caught us kissing. It doesn't matter now anyway; the influence of her family and her brothers has turned the whole of Gryffindor House against me. People who would once have died for me will now not even acknowledge my presence. People I once considered family – people I thought I could rely on – are now taking pleasure in my pain.

Last night, upon my return to the common room after a very long walk and after Ginny had obviously announced to everyone the awkward position she caught me in, I was shunned and ignored. I thought it was just an initial reaction and things would blow over. I thought this until my encounter with Fred and George at breakfast. I had always found their easy nature and ability to lighten any situation appealing: even Slytherins are drawn to the Weasley twins in some way, so when they approached me at breakfast and Fred began caressing my leg I couldn't hide my positive reaction. George's hands soon joined Fred's and I shivered under their combined touch. That was, of course, until Fred leaned in to tell me what a 'good little faggot boy' I was and that if they weren't sure I was a 'little gay slut' and therefore teeming with disease they might even like to find out how well I sucked cock.

I didn't stay to find out what else they had to say. I knew where I stood with them now.

I did think that perhaps my relationship with Ron and Hermione was salvageable despite their blatant ignoring of me at breakfast. My friendship with Ron had always been a little volatile so I knew it would take longer to mend bridges with him. Hermione, I was sure, would express her disapproval and disappointment, but I never thought she would _actually_ abandon me.

Again, I was wrong.

I managed to catch her briefly before Potions class and the few words she said to me spoke volumes. We were no longer friends.

"You went too far this time Harry, I've stood by you before when you fought with Ron but I can't this time. You should have known better," she had said to me before walking away.

She wasn't cold or angry: she was just sad. Her relationship with Ron had been a long time coming and it was only newly blossoming romantically; obviously she didn't want to jeopardize that, not even for her best friend.

I wondered if, given time, she would ever want to be friends with me again. I wondered if I would want to be friends with her again.

I truly felt the extent of my loneliness in that Potions class when Snape instructed us to pair up to work on our potion for the day; I was unceremoniously left out in the cold to pair up with a Slytherin, something that had never happened before.

I glanced around the room where I eventually locked eyes with none other than Draco Malfoy, my school nemesis and the only other student without a partner.

Shit.

I had frozen in place hoping that the Gods might strike me down where I stood rather than have me pair up with Malfoy. My immediate thought was that this was the worst day of my life, but in the back of my mind I knew that wasn't true: I'd had worse. Possibly this was the worst day I'd had in the last five years or so… maybe it wasn't even that.

My life sucks.

He gestured for me to join him and finally I knew I couldn't avoid it any longer and I complied. I gathered my belongings and made my way across the room, dragging my feet as I went, making it obvious I didn't want to go. I purposely avoided looking to see who was watching me even when my chair scrapped loudly as I sat down.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Malfoy watching Snape who was smirking at our pairing, no doubt enjoying my 'fall from Grace'. Even I had to admit I had fallen far. I didn't like it, but Gryffindor House had made me their 'Golden Boy' – as Malfoy and his Slytherin buddies often reminded me – and I was now nothing to them. Snape was no doubt loving every minute. Bastard. I shot him a deathly glare so he knew I had caught him enjoying my pain; he didn't even flinch.

I could feel Malfoy's presence and I was just waiting for his tirade of 'gay' comments as I was sure he, along with the rest of the school, knew about what had happened. Ginny made sure of that. I'd heard 'faggot' coughs through every hall as I made my way to class.

I wondered what Mike was experiencing this morning. Same as me? Taunting and ridicule? I wondered if he would stand by me or if he would turn on me like everyone else had. I still didn't know.

I moved my chair as far to the end of the desk as I could manage, seeking as much distance between myself and Malfoy as possible. My whole body was tense from stress and my now unknown future. Well, unknown to a certain extent. Friends or no friends, I was still destined to face that psychopath Voldemort. Friends or no friends, I was still expected to fight for their freedom: possibly die for their freedom. Ungrateful pricks. As much as I wanted to tell them all to fuck off, see how well they fared facing Voldemort without me, I knew I would never do that. I still needed my revenge for the murder of my parents. I would still face him; I would still fight him; I would still kill him, but now I would be doing it alone.

My shoulders slumped at this thought. Was facing Voldemort alone and coming out victorious even possible? Wasn't that my biggest advantage over him? My friends, my family, my ability to love and be loved? Now where was I? Unloved and alone just like Voldemort himself… I was doomed.

"Let's get this over with," I grumbled in an attempt to prompt us both into starting to brew our potion – Draught of Living Death. I wondered off hand whether this was the potion Juliet took when she faked her own death; too bad it didn't work out for her.

"So how did the Gryffindor mascot end up partnered with me?" Malfoy asked me, I could hear the amusement in his voice. I could tell he already knew the answer, the whole fucking school knew the answer.

He question made me relive the whole event again and I felt my sadness settle over me again. I still loved my friends. I would miss them terribly. Part of me knew I deserved this even though I was trying to convince myself that friends stick by friends no matter what.

"Sod off, Malfoy," I replied.

Like this was any of his business, I bet he just wanted more details to later relay dramatically to his housemates while they all laughed at me.

He held up both his hands in surrender. "You injure me, Potter. I was only trying to be friendly," he answered back.

Yeah right.

I turned to look at him so I could respond, which in hindsight was possibly my first mistake. Now, in my experience I've come to learn that Malfoy is essentially an idiot. He can mock and bully with a skill I have never seen before, not even in Dudley, but he's always been, fundamentally, a whiny little brat whose mouth told lies all the time but whose body language always gave him away like a big neon sign that said 'I'm lying right now, can you tell?'.

He didn't look like he was lying now though, he looked sort of empathetic; not pitying or anything, but like he could understand how crap I must be feeling. If the dungeons had windows I would have literally rushed over to one to see if there were flying pigs outside because that would be the only time I would expect to see Malfoy expressing genuine empathy.

I was taken aback at his sincerity but I didn't show it. I rolled my eyes before I responded; Malfoy might not have been pointing and laughing or kicking me when I was down, but I still wasn't stupid enough to think that I could pour my heart out to him just because I had no one else. I'm sure he wasn't stupid enough to expect it either, not that it stopped him from trying. "Not that it's any of your business," I replied, "but I'm sure you're well aware of what's going on with me: don't be coy, Malfoy. It doesn't suit you."

"I'm not being coy, Potter," he said. "Do you really expect the entire school to keep track of the great Harry Potter's social interactions?"

Bingo. Right there. _That_ was what he thought of me. I would have laughed if I wasn't so pissed off. Laughed that Malfoy, who I expected more from, could be so easily categorized with the rest of the idiots who read my story, saw my pictures and thought they knew me. Everybody thought I basked in all the fame and attention those _same_ people bestowed upon me. They all thought I bathed in it, that I soaked it in and was so obsessed with myself, just like everyone else seemed obsessed with me. Idiots, all of them. The only people who truly knew me had just thrown me away like yesterday's news; I felt truly worthless.

"If you don't keep track of such things, then why did you ask?" I retorted.

Moron, I thought spitefully.

He almost smiled. He almost looked impressed by my come back. "I merely observed that every Gryffindor in the class ignored you and left you to the wolves, so to speak," he answered looking rather wolfish himself.

If I didn't know any better I'd say he was flirting with me. I felt my insides bubble as I realized I was actually enjoying this conversation with Malfoy. Did I like him flirting with me? No. No way. But I decided to play along anyway.

"And I suppose in this scenario that you would be the wolf?"

"Undoubtedly," he agreed and he sort of bowed at me as though he was formally meeting me for the first time. We'd known each other for six years but I think it was safe to say that this was one of our first proper conversations. "Could you ever think otherwise?" he asked smugly.

Hmm. Could I? Perhaps I could. I was actually enjoying this conversation. I was enjoying myself with Malfoy. Today had definitely been total shit, there was no denying it, but here I was actually being cheered up by none other than Draco Malfoy. Right now I would say anything was possible and so I threw caution to the wind. "I think I could be persuaded to think otherwise," I answered. I looked away though; I didn't want to see his reaction to my words. I was sure he knew I was gay and I was sure he would know I was practically flirting with him, not that I knew _why_ I was flirting with him...

I think I shocked him with what I said because he didn't reply immediately. This gave me time to think about him and why I was doing what I was doing, it gave me time to think about him in context with my current situation. Draco Malfoy was my school rival and my enemy: he was a rude, conceited pig of a boy who had been a total arse to me and my friends for the entire time I'd known him. Yet, here I was – sans friends – and I was actually enjoying myself in his company. Strange.

My first thought was that if I got together with Malfoy Ron might actually self-destruct and that was something I would pay to see at the moment. But I was still with Mike; besides I wasn't even sure I could stomach getting together with Malfoy, I mean sure he was attractive – alright, more than attractive, the boy was heavenly looking – but I was a personality guy as much as a looks guy. I had to know the person I was with, to like who they were and while I could happily jerk off to pictures of Malfoy, actually being with him just to piss off Ron – as appealing as that was – probably would be much more difficult.

Although, as my mind ticked over, I started to realize the other appeal to Malfoy: his proximity to Voldemort. It was obvious I needed a new plan to defeat him. I was in this on my own, with no friends to back me, and I had already realized I needed a new game plan. Perhaps Malfoy himself wasn't involved in Voldemort's circle, but his father sure as hell was. Draco Malfoy was starting to look mighty shiny right now; he had this whole new appeal to him once I started to realize that I could use him to get to Voldemort. Just how I would do that I wasn't sure, but it was an interesting development nonetheless.

"But I _am _the wolf, Potter. Don't forget that," he reminded me.

Yes, that's right. He is the wolf and I mustn't forget that. I would need to watch myself around him.

I had decided by that point that I was going to foster a relationship with Malfoy, whatever it might come to be, and I would let things play out however they did. I guess you could say I was going to encourage the mending of bridges between us.

This was going to be an interesting new chapter in the Harry Potter chronicles.

By the time all these thoughts had run through my head, I had gathered all of our ingredients and, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Malfoy talking to Snape while I was away. They both looked serious and they spoke in whispers: I wondered what they were talking about.

"What did _he_ want?" I asked when I returned to our table, surprising even myself. The question came out so easily it sounded like something I would ask Ron, as though Malfoy was my friend and could have no reason as to keep anything from me.

"He just wanted to make sure I was going to make your day sufficiently miserable," the other boy replied; his tone sounded like he was half teasing me. It sounded like something Snape would do, though.

"Is that your plan?" I asked him lightly.

He just shrugged noncommittally.

"Because if it is, you could do a better job," I added, smirking at him.

He looked a bit surprised and I wondered myself what I was doing with him. It seemed my plan had gone from 'fostering a relationship, whatever it might be' to 'seducing Malfoy' without my permission or any conscious thought. It occurred to me that I had no idea what I was doing and I would need to think several things through and monitor myself with him very, _very _closely.

"He said something in there that was a little odd," he said cautiously, as though he wanted me to confirm something. I was surprised he was giving me any details at all of their conversation, particularly since he seemed to gloss over the subject with his last comment. "He said you weren't completely a Gryffindor. What in the world does that mean?"

I tried to keep it in but I couldn't help myself as I laughed. I laughed not only at knowing Snape knew how close I came to being under his charge, but also I laughed with pleasure as Malfoy seemed to get his first glimpse into how complex my life is. I wondered if he knew how significant this moment was: the first time he was learning that I was not the shallow, attention-hungry, famous Golden Boy he thought I was.

"He _would_ know about that," I commented mysteriously.

"Know about what?" he asked me.

Oh yes, Malfoy was following me like a puppy just dying for information. He was as curious about me and this strange interaction we were having as I was.

I don't know much about dating or flirting, but I was once in the room when Lavender and Parvati were talking to Hermione about 'playing hard to get' to entice Ron. I remember just sitting there smiling to myself knowing Ron was just too vague to understand 'hard to get', but Malfoy I think would respond nicely to a little 'hard to get'. I wanted him to chase me. I needed him to think that whatever friendship we struck up was _his_ idea, that it was _his_ doing, and that I couldn't possibly have an ulterior motive. I wasn't very good at deception or lying; lucky for me neither was Malfoy. I would still need to be careful though.

I looked down, trying to appear nervous, as if the information I had was very juicy and I was reluctant for him to know. Unfortunately, Malfoy turned it around on me; something I wasn't expecting.

"It's okay, Potter," he said. "You don't have to tell me, it's probably personal."

Bugger. That wasn't what I wanted at all. I wanted him to beg for the information. I wanted him to know that we were very nearly made room mates. I knew he would be impressed by my Slytherin qualities: it would pull me out of his Gryffindor stereotypes somewhat and put us on a more even playing field.

"It _is_ a little personal, but…" I said trying to sound reluctant, although I knew it would do no good; he would be all smug thinking he'd won this round. In a way I guess he had won, just not in the way he thinks. "No real harm in you knowing I suppose. Do you remember the sorting?"

As soon as the words were out of my mouth I felt stupid and I could feel my face burning with embarrassment. Duh, Harry! Of course he remembers the sorting!

He nodded anyway and didn't comment the way I thought he would. Malfoy was surprising me at every turn.

"Sorry, of course you remember being sorted. That was a stupid question," I admitted. We both knew it; I might as well acknowledge it out loud. This would not be helping to put me on an even playing field with him. "Well, I was almost sorted into Slytherin."

He looked surprised; exactly the reaction I was hoping for. "Almost? How do you almost get sorted into a house? The sorting hat always knows exactly where to put you," he stated as though it couldn't be any other way because that was how _he_ experienced it.

I shrugged lightly. "I can only tell you what happened to me. The hat said I would be a great wizard and that Slytherin could help me along to achieve that greatness. I told it no, that I would rather be in any other house, and after giving me several chances to change my mind, it finally put me in Gryffindor."

He looked scandalised. "That's ridiculous, Potter. Why wouldn't you listen to the Sorting Hat? You could have ruined your entire life by ignoring it," he replied.

Oh-so-dramatic, Malfoy. You really need to work on that: it makes you look immature.

"I doubt it has ruined my entire life," I said. Thinking about it again, though, I almost wished I was in Slytherin. Gryffindors were too loyal for their own good. If I was in Slytherin when this happened, I would have expected _some_ people to ignore me, but not the _whole_ house. "Or at least I would have said that yesterday," I added with a grimace as I glanced at my fellow Gryffindors.

"What did you do anyhow?" he asked me.

I instantly got my back up about it, my usual reaction when it came to Malfoy and snapped, "You just assume it was something I did?" I instantly regretted it as I didn't want to encourage either of us falling into old habits. Not when I was trying to get on his good side.

"It seemed the most plausible explanation since they're all mad at you and you look guilty," he answered easily with a genuine grin.

He surprised me again and this time I couldn't hide it as I stumbled all over my words sounding like a lunatic. "Well it was me this time, though, usually it isn't," I said.

He just laughed. "Are you going to make me ask again? Or do I just need to ask one of the gossiping Slytherin girls for the dirt on your bad behaviour?"

Oh God, my mind was all jumbled up as it struggled to process this brand new, easy-going Malfoy I was witnessing. How could this boy be two completely different people? Warning bells sounded in my head at this thought and I wondered if he was better at deception than I thought.

Should I tell him?

Oh why not? The whole school knew anyway.

I sighed. "I cheated on Ginny."

"Is that all?" was his easy reply. He confirmed my assumption that I would have been better off in Slytherin for this situation, although it was worrying that he was so indifferent to infidelity; yet another reason I needed to be careful around him: he could easily break my heart.

"Isn't that enough?" I asked not hiding any of my disbelief at his easy attitude towards cheating.

"For your entire house to turn against you? Hardly. Even Slytherins are more loyal than that. I thought you were their poster child?" he replied.

Loyal? They _are_ being loyal. Just not to me. I took a deep breath as I contemplated how to explain this to him. He really didn't understand me or my life at all. "I'm only their hero when it suits them, and most of the time I'm just some freak who shares their common room."

"Would you like for me to talk to them?" he asked.

He was offering but I knew he wouldn't do it so I tried to call him on it.

"Yeah, would you?" I asked smiling innocently. He flinched at that, obviously certain I wouldn't take him up on the offer and I couldn't help but laugh. "I was kidding. I'm sure that would do about as much good as if I let them all fuck me."

I knew that sounded crude but I wanted to push Malfoy into thinking of me in a completely different light. It worked; he dropped the knife he was using with a loud clatter. It was perfect; the look on his face was exactly what I wanted.

"Sorry. I forgot to tell you the other bit. They are also mad because I cheated on Ginny with a boy," I said casually as though it didn't matter to me and shouldn't matter to him.

"I had no idea," he told me truthfully.

"No one did except Mike," I admitted.

Mike. Damn, I had only thought of him briefly today. Again I wondered how he was going with all this, he had been outed against his will just the same as me. Mike, however, had a family who would care a great deal, particularly his father; he was adamant about keeping our relationship under wraps.

"Mike?" Malfoy asked.

"Michael Corner, my boyfriend," I told him casually, again trying to encourage him into easy acceptance. "Or at least he was until all this blew up, now I'm not so sure."

That was true, for all I knew, Mike would deny everything and batten down the hatches until it all blew over. I couldn't see him standing by me while we publically professed our love for one another. He wasn't really that kind of person.

"I don't know what to say, Potter. I thought I knew all the gay boys in Hogwarts, but I never suspected you _or _Corner," he said sounding as though he knew _intimately_ all the gay boys in Hogwarts.

"Are you… are you saying that you're gay?" I asked stupidly, he had floored me again.

He smiled at me as though confirming it without words. Malfoy was _GAY?! _And not only gay but it looked as though he lived up to that sluttish reputation of his…

The look he gave me caught me a little off guard, especially as I was only just trying to pull my jaw up off the floor as it was. It was smug and almost predatory and I knew at once what he wanted; suddenly it all made sense… The 'famous Harry Potter'… Oh yes that was definitely a notch Malfoy would want in his bed post: if only for something to brag about later. Heaven help me if he was to find out I was still a virgin.

I was going to have to play this carefully.

I smiled back broadly. "Well I guess we have more in common than I thought," I mused.

"We just might," he agreed still smiling at me like he already had me naked in his bed.

Not yet, Malfoy. Not yet.

By the end of the lesson it was obvious he wanted to add me to his most likely already very long list of conquests. He played coy, touching my hand while we stirred our potion together, and by the end he looked very pleased with himself as our potion turned the exact colour it needed to turn. I would have been pleased with myself too, had I conquered this bitch of a potion Snape set us; Malfoy, however, already knew he could do it, and was just smugly pleased he got to show off to me.

So here I am. Following Malfoy to Divination and still bewildered by the last few hours: the very significant decisions I've made; the lack of serious thought about what I'm doing or how I plan to pull it off. I have a lot to think about and basically no time to do it in.

I follow Malfoy all the way to Divination and we are paired together again for a basic tea leaf reading. Trelawney likes to pretend that there is more to it than what we learned in third year, but I know better: she's just running out of material to teach us.

Malfoy and I drink our tea and attempt to read each others' cups. I feel an invisible knife stab my heart as I realise, had things not gone badly with Ginny yesterday, I would be doing this with Ron and we would be making jokes about the whole process like always, predicting each others deaths in the most gruesome fashion possible.

After I finish my tea and pass the mostly-empty cup over to Malfoy, I stare into his globby left over tea leaves, trying to discern what the strange, blob-like shapes could _possibly_ mean. Without warning, Trelawney comes over to us and snatches my cup from Malfoy's hands. She looks over at me with that same pitying 'you are going to die soon' expression and gazes into my cup. I brace myself for the predictable response she always gives… _the grim._

"Interesting," she begins – that's new. "This looks like a hangman's noose on a tree branch which is the symbol for Judas and betrayal, but here you have a flying dove – the symbol for love – and a ring – the symbol for longevity or eternity. You have a very turbulent future ahead of you with those close to you, Mr Potter."

My mouth falls open in shock about half way through and I haven't yet managed to close it by the end of Trelawney's little speech; even Malfoy has a confused look painted across his features.

"Do mine," he requests of her, obviously thinking – like me – that the prediction she gave me didn't sound ridiculous like the others she always handed out to random students.

Without missing a beat, she lifts the cup from my hands to read Malfoy's leaves. "Well, Mr Malfoy, here you have flying phoenix which often symbolises new life – this can sometimes mean new love, a new baby, or rarely such a significant change in your current life that you create a new life for yourself. The only reason I mentioned the last one is that you have here a dragonfly which is the symbol for change and maturity. In essence, you will be doing a lot of growing up in the next few months Mr Malfoy."

I raise my eyebrows at Malfoy across the table. Malfoy maturing and growing up? Yeah right! That'll be the day!

… Although hadn't I seen him do that very thing just today?

I don't know what is going on; only that it looks as though both Malfoy and I are in for an uncertain and rocky future.

authors note: You can review here or on Laurel's version or both if you're feeling extra sugary!


	3. Draco: Everything to Gain

Authors note: Yay! My turn again!! Okay, again I note that if you never read the first Authors note, you should do so now. I'm adoring this story and I love Laurel's Harry to bits. Many thanks to our wonderful beta Robert! and if you haven't already notice I've begun posting Madame Scarlet's and I posted another two-shot called 'Wanting & Kneading' (the spelling is intentional lol) Love you all and on with the show!!

Chapter 3-Draco – Everything to Gain

I couldn't wait to get out of the Divination classroom. I had gooseflesh all over my body, and the hairs at the back of my neck were standing on end from Trelawney's ludicrous tea reading. They always seemed more entertaining when they happened to someone else, but I didn't like the old bat predicting my future, however false her predictions might be. Worse yet, I could feel Potter's eyes on me like I was some sort of sideshow circus act. It was nearly unbearable - nearly.

As it was I kept my cool, scoffing at the Professor's –if one can even give someone like her the title of 'professor'- words and making a show of yanking the cup back and pretending to study it myself. "Are you sure?" I asked at last. "It might just be a Grim or some other trite nonsense such as that."

A snort from Potter's side of the table told me I was heading in the right direction to distract him from the previous incident altogether. My reading was one thing. Clearly it was referring to my brand new life at the right hand of Voldemort when I graduate, foretelling my success at bringing Potter to the Dark Lord's feet, and then getting to bask in the glory that would be my reward.

The dragonfly was just a coincidence. Probably every student in the class could spot a dragonfly in their cup. It was our final year; we were all graduating in a matter of months and being tossed out into the world. Of course we were maturing. Even a muggle fortuneteller could have made such a vague prediction as that.

Amateur.

No, what caused me concern was what she told Potter; what's more was the fact that he seemed to be eating it up like homemade treacle tart. The last thing I wanted was for him to have even a tiny clue as to what was in store for him. And the hangman? You've got to be kidding me. Could she have possibly given him more information? Maybe she could have just said, '_Oh dear, Harry. It looks like the leaves have formed a picture of Malfoy holding up a bloody knife. Oh, and here it looks as if he's stabbing you in the back. Perhaps you should stay away from him,_' and gotten it over with.

Moreover, the dove and ring? What kind of rubbish was that? Potter wouldn't have time to experience true love. His days were numbered unless… unless it was referring to his relationship with Corner.

Was Potter in love with that Corner kid? If so, then snagging him for myself would prove to be much more difficult than I had originally expected; I would need to make certain that my every move was spot on.

As Trelawney left in a huff, moving over to another set of what I'm sure she considered more open minded students, I decided I needed more information on this nobody Michael Corner that Harry had been seeing. When I looked across the table I noticed that Harry was still staring intently at the contents of his cup and chewing his bottom lip slightly.

I briefly imagined what it would be like if I were the one biting into that lip in the midst of a heated kiss but quickly disbanded with that line of thinking. My prick was not the one making the plans or seeing them through, though if things went the way I wanted I should be enjoying rewards over and above that which would put me in the Dark Lord's good graces.

Fucking Potter would be my prize for all my hard work and ingenious planning, and I doubted even my father would find it distasteful under the circumstances. I deserved my due; I deserved to rejoice in the sun instead of constantly having to bow into the shadows of the people who surrounded me. The first step would be to blot out Potter's and then soon enough I would surpass even my father's wide reach.

"Is she mad or what?" I asked, trying to pull Potter's mind from the very place I didn't want it.

He looked up distractedly from his cup and frowned. "What?" he asked, clearly having not heard my words, just my voice.

I gestured toward Trelawney, who was giving Lavender Brown a reading that entailed a dashing lover and a summer wedding.

Potter laughed and nodded then. "Definitely off her rocker."

"How she stays under employ here is beyond me. I've complained to my father about her, but he says Dumbledore is adamant about keeping the old bat around," I mused, waiting for his hostile reaction from mentioning my father.

I didn't have to wait long, though it wasn't quite the response I had expected. "Do you always run to daddy when something doesn't go your way?" he asked. It was rude, and surely hostile, but there also seemed to be an underlying curiosity to it.

"Father and I are close," I explained levelly. "You shouldn't judge what you don't understand."

Immediately his face contorted into an angry frown, but then quickly smoothed into something more neutral. "I understand he's a Death Eater," he said at last, and it took all of my self-control not to laugh at him outright and say, 'so am I'.

Of course my father became a Death Eater, every pureblood wizard with any sense joined Voldemort's side. It was fairly clear who the winner of the war would be. I mean, whose joke was it to pit a child against one of the greatest wizard's of all time? This scrawny boy who knew no other spells aside from what they taught him at Hogwarts was supposed to kill a wizard so dark that even death could not hold him? Rubbish.

Explaining it in terms Potter might understand was a different matter however. "My father has always done what is needed to keep us safe. If the only option he saw was to join the strongest side, then I have no doubt he would have made that choice," I replied, neither confirming nor denying my father's status as Death Eater. I knew from his stories that Potter had seen my father's face during battles, but there was no reason for me to indicate that I knew of his title, or even how much I knew about any of it.

"There is always more than one choice available to us, Malfoy," he replied, and when I thought he was going to start lecturing me on the differences between right and wrong he surprised me and left off the subject altogether.

I rolled my eyes and set my teacup down. "Not to be rude, Potter, but you of all people should know what would have come of making a different choice." I had always pitied Potter for the fact his parents died. It seemed a terrible injustice that the mistakes of the parents would only serve to punish their child. It was wasteful really. I often tried to imagine what my life might be like if my father had made the same choices for our family that James Potter had for his own.

If he had, I'd probably be dead and buried right along side my mother and father, only to be seen as heroes in the aftermath for ignorantly standing up to someone more powerful than us. What use is being a hero if you're dead?

As flawed as they were, because even I know that no one is perfect, I loved my parents, and I would far prefer them to be alive and under the thumb of a crazy dark wizard than dead and gone from my life altogether.

Potter didn't seem nearly so convinced. His face took on that look he got when he was about to say something like, 'don't talk about my parents,' but he didn't say a word. Instead he merely watched me in silence.

"Really Potter, has there never been a time, even one random second, where you resented the choices your parents made? If they had done what my father did, they'd still be here with you," I offered.

"Voldemort would have killed me," he replied coldly. "It wasn't a matter of joining or not; it was a matter of die or let Voldemort kill _me_. How can I be resentful of people who gave up their own lives so that I could have a shot at one?"

I didn't know what to say to that.

"The Dark Lord was after you?" I asked instead, thinking that sounded about as likely as Voldemort having a favorite teddy bear. I always thought that the Dark Lord's vendetta against Potter began _after_ Potter nearly killed him, not before.

He didn't answer me; he just leaned in and leveled his emerald gaze on me. "What would your father have done if Voldemort gave him that choice? Would he have saved _you_ or himself and your mother?"

"Two lives are more important that one," I answered automatically, wanting to retch at my own words. Malfoy logic dictated that you only sacrificed yourself if it will save more of our bloodline. My father would have given me over to Voldemort, and even though my mother would have protested, in the end my father would have won out. He always did. They would have just produced another heir.

I knew the Malfoy laws too well not to know the answer to Potter's question.

He looked at me with eyes full of pity, and I wanted to punch him in his smug face. How dare he feel sorry for me? I _have_ parents; I have wealth, power _and_ a place in the throng of Death Eaters at Voldemort's side. I have spells at my disposal people would only dream of. I have a future. What does he have? Nothing.

"Your parents sound cold," Harry commented, reaching a hand across the table as if to comfort me, but I batted it away at once. Consequences be damned I wasn't going to let The Boy Who Lived feel even an ounce of pity toward me.

"Do not presume that one civil conversation gives you the right to judge my life, Potter. You can keep your high and mighty sentiments to yourself," I stated plainly, trying not to allow my anger to bleed through any more than necessary.

I got up from the table and dismissed myself just before the rest of the class disbanded at Trelawney's insistence. I made my way quickly down the flight of spiraling stairs as quickly as I could, sprinting into the boy's bathroom at the bottom of the tower.

I wasn't sure what had come over me, but I knew I had blown it with Potter. Yet again I would be a failure to my family, proof that -if the choice had been posed to them- it would have been the right one to sacrifice me.

I ruined everything I touched.

I paced the echoing tile room, trying to determine my next move. I spun quickly when the door opened, wand raised and ready to hex whoever showed their head; that was, of course, until I saw the messy black hair and famous scar.

Lowering my wand, I tried not to smile openly at the answer to my problems. I hadn't run him off after all, and his chasing after me was an unexpected new development. Clearly he was more taken with me than I had ever thought possible so quickly.

"Come to trounce your superiority over me some more, Potter?" I asked dully, turning away from him in a show of indifference, while letting him see only an ounce of the hurt he had truly inflicted on me.

He winced, which was as close as I would get to the ideal response. Ideally he would have apologized, which would have been so brilliant to hear that I would have replayed the memory in my pensieve over and over again, but I knew it was far too much to expect from him. I doubted the spoiled Gryffindor Golden Boy ever felt truly sorry for anything.

"Look, Malfoy," he began, but the words fell short when I marched over and pinned him to the side of a nearby stall.

"No you look," I whispered heatedly. "I don't need this back and forth from you. I was trying to be civil, trying to share things with you because somehow we got thrown into the same lot together. I was trying to make the best of it, and you threw it back in my face."

I could feel his pulse race under my fingertips, which were strategically placed on each of his fragile wrists, holding them over his head in a dominant and very suggestive manner. I let my thigh press between his legs, brushing ever so lightly against his groin, and I reveled in the small gasping breaths he was taking.

Making Potter fall for me would be a victory to top all victories. I could already taste his sweet breath on my tongue, could already feel his body squirming beneath my own, could already feel his heart beat frantically just for me.

Was he nervous? Perhaps. Though, he had certainly gone further than closely pressed bodies with Corner. Was he excited? It was fairly clear that he desired me –who wouldn't- but I wasn't foolish enough to believe that he would give himself over to me so easily.

I was the enemy after all, and no amount of shunning from his friends would change that fact. He'd spent too many years loathing me to be able to just flip a coin and want to suddenly have a relationship with me. Friends abandoning him or not I didn't take Harry Potter to be the desperate type.

Which made me wonder what he was after.

"I'm just having a bad day, Malfoy," Harry replied, and it wasn't lost on me that he wasn't trying to break my grip on him.

"We all have bad days, Potter. It doesn't give you the right to be cruel," I spat.

His responding laugh was harsh, but expected. I had goaded the boy into nearly everything he said in Divination. It was my fault he crossed a line, my poor preparation that allowed him to do it. Had I known more about my enemy he wouldn't have been able to get the best of me. It had always been my problem. I could study Potter from afar all I wanted, but then it only left me to speculate and use the gossip surrounding him to fill in the gaps.

Unfortunately, having now spent an iota of real time with the raven haired celebrity, I knew that he was much more complex than the rumors made him out to be. I needed to be closer to him, learn about him the right way; it would all make it so much easier to take him down in the end. Just look at how easy it had been for Weasel and Granger to break his heart.

If I could get even closer than that, if I could place myself inside his mind, his heart, and of course, his body, then my betrayal would be worse still.

"I wasn't being cruel," he replied. "I was being honest. It was your idea to bring up our parents."

"Clearly we can't talk to one another," I whispered, looking disappointed. "So where does that leave us?" I asked and leaned in as close as I dared. I thought about kissing him right then, just crashing against him and taking his breath away, but I didn't think he was ready yet, so I merely hovered, drinking in the tension that pulled between us like an eternal game of tug-of-war.

His gemstone eyes were locked on mine, but I wasn't sure just what he was thinking. I needed to. I needed to be able to read him like a children's book if I was going to take him down. I searched those deep dark eyes for the answers to all my questions but came up short.

When Potter gasped I thought that I had said something in my concentration that I hadn't meant to, but then I followed his line of sight just over my right shoulder.

My excuse for letting Potter go was standing just inside the door and gaping at us.

"What's going on here, Harry?" asked the dark haired boy who had intruded on our intimate moment. I didn't know too many Ravenclaw's, but I assumed that since he was relatively good looking, calling him 'Harry' and even still talking to him at all that it must have been Michael Corner.

I made a show of narrowing my eyes at the boy and then glancing possessively at Potter before releasing his wrists. I didn't step away though; instead I leaned in and whispered right against Potter's ear. "I'd like to see where you and I might lead," I offered in a low rich tone that had melted lesser men than Potter. "You intrigue me, Potter."

With that I stepped away and waved to signal to Corner that Potter was all his again. Something I said must have stuck, however, because Potter didn't even look at his boyfriend as I made my way to the exit because his eyes were still following me. "You know where to find me," I called over my shoulder before leaving.

I only made it to the next floor before my laughter broke through. Seeing Potter's wide shocked eyes at my blatant physical closeness was nearly too much to bear.

It was a risk leaving him alone with Corner so early on, for all I knew the dark haired boy could be taking Potter's virginity right out from under me, but I doubted it. They would have found a way to be alone at some point, and better he be left with my breath against his ear right before he faced a clearly less worthy suitor.

Still, it made me wonder how far they had gone. Potter had been quite vague on the subject, and I wasn't sure I liked that. Had they already been intimate? Had Potter already parted his legs and turned over his heart to an insignificant Ravenclaw?

The thought of it made me more livid than I had expected, but luckily a distraction from the conflict of my thoughts arrived just in time.

"What's with you and Potter?" Pansy asked as she sidled up next to me, matching her step with mine. "I get that you were practically forced to work with him in Potions, but Divination too?"

I rolled my eyes. Leave it to Pansy, an inferior Slytherin if ever there was one, to draw conclusions from something she couldn't even begin to understand. "I chose to work with him in Divination," I told her easily. There was no use wasting my talent of deceit on someone that wouldn't even know how to appreciate the skill involved.

"But why?" she asked, her nose turned up unattractively. At least Potter looked oddly adorable when he found something distasteful; Pansy simply looked like her face had been smashed in the wrong direction.

"Because my dear, Pansy, I intend to shag him," I told her, and it was the truth so far as she needed to know. I couldn't let anyone in on my true plan or else I would run the risk of someone else making an attempt to do the same and ruining everything. Plus, it never hurt to rub it in that I often chased after people who weren't her. It kept her from getting too clingy.

She laughed uproariously and swatted my arm. "Good one, Draco," she snorted.

I merely looked down at the place on my arm that she had hit, and let my expression show her how displeased I was at the action. She quieted at once. "It's no joke, Parkinson."

And it wasn't. I'm not sure when exactly I had decided it for certain, but at some point I knew that I couldn't turn Potter over until I had my own way with him. It would be such a waste to let all this pent up tension between us go unanswered only to have him killed by Voldemort and leave me unfulfilled. I was the one doing all the work; I was the one taking all the risk. I should get the reward, and the reward I wanted was Potter in my bed.

I would get what I wanted, and then Voldemort could have what he wanted.

"But why the hell would you want to fuck Potter?" she asked ignorantly. "Why chase after him when you have plenty of others who would be eager to please?"

"Others like you?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"Of course. You know I would do anything for you," she offered with a wink.

I groaned and shook my head. "Why don't you understand, Pansy. I've already seen what you have to offer, and I'm not impressed."

Her jaw tightened, and her eyes shot invisible daggers at me. "You're an arse, Draco Malfoy. I don't know why I even bother," she huffed before storming off toward our common room.

"I don't either," I called after her with a chuckle before setting off in the opposite direction.

I still had a package to retrieve. My father had been giving me things through Snape for years, and apparently I had a new item awaiting me. Sometimes it was merely letters too secretive to send through owl post, sometimes it was a dark artifact that father wanted to get out of the manor in case of an Auror raid, and other times it was a present specifically for me.

As I set off toward the Owlery I wondered which it was this time.

Of all the spires in Hogwarts, the west tower was the second highest, it was so tall that the windows stopped halfway up and the top was just wide-open space with tiny niches in the wall to provide the owls with shelter. There the owls would come and go as they pleased until some student or staff member needed them.

I had no need to go into the straw laden room, however, because my purpose was on the floor below. A narrow door could be reached on the landing just below the Owlery but most students walked right past it. The door remained locked at all times, but even if someone were to dispel the locking charm they would only find rudimentary cleaning materials such as mops and buckets.

After checking the stairwell for other students, I cast a quick _Alohamora_ before slipping into the small dark room. Carefully avoiding the brooms and rags sitting about, I made my way to the back of the room, which was far deeper than it looked at first glance. There, behind a blockade of distracting scrubbing tools and several different repelling charms, was a wooden wall with a tapestry of a tree swaying in a nonexistent breeze.

"Stinson," I called, and a tanned face peaked out from around the tree's trunk. "I'm here for my package."

The dwarf, for that was what he was, looked at me skeptically and walked further into the glade surrounding the tree so that I could see him better. He wore a ruddy brown suit, which looked to be made of pliable bark and a pointed hat that drooped sideways to hang over his shoulder. A wiry, gray beard jutted out from beneath his bulbous nose and his beady black eyes studied me intently.

"Answer my questions and you may have your prize," he called, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I had irked the dwarf once before, and it was months before he allowed me to retrieve what my father had sent.

I nodded, and he grinned. Clearly I was his only entertainment because I doubted Snape ever played along with his little game. I made a mental note to ask how he got out of it and listened to the first question.

"What is most precious to you?" he asked.

"That's not your usual question, Stinson," I replied with a frown. Typically the diminutive man asked me easy questions like 'what is the weather like outside' or 'what color shoes am I wearing', and even if he was feeling particularly ornery, the worst he would do was ask me questions about magical history. "How will you know I'm being honest?"

"Stinson always knows. Now answer the question," he demanded with a stomped foot.

After some thought, I answered with the only thing I could think of. "Myself."

The dwarf beamed at me and nodded. "Yes, yes that's true. Good, good. Now, are you ready for the next one?"

I sighed and nodded, and he cleared his throat. "What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen African Swallow?"

"What?" I asked, completely dumbfounded.

"Just joshing, lad. I think that's enough for today," he teased with a chuckle, and the tapestry started rolling up into itself revealing a crevice in the wall behind it.

I reached in and grabbed the small package, which was wrapped tightly in brown paper and twine, and tried not to think of the oddness that had poured from the dwarf's mouth.

"Thanks, Stinson," I called as I made my way out of the room and into the stairwell once more. No one was around, so I quickly strode down the tower, pocketing my gift and heading toward the Slytherin common room.

I ignored the evil glares cast at me by the gang of girls in the corner all flocked around to hear Pansy's tale. It mattered very little if she shared my intentions with anyone. Most of the other Slytherin's knew better than to step on my turf, and those who might dare to would be too nervous to try something as bold with the Great Harry Potter.

It was amusing to me that Potter got so up in arms over his celebrity. It wasn't to be helped, and most people knew that, deep down. At least I did. It was quite obvious that he didn't bask in the glow that his fame provided. He didn't seem quite as opposed to it as he would like people to believe, but he clearly didn't enjoy it as much as someone like me would.

It was an easy button of his to push and always set him off when he thought people only cared about him because of that blasted scar on his head. Maybe some of them did, but to me he was uniquely more complex than that. I looked forward to unraveling the tightly knit angst that surrounded him before I turned him over to his enemy.

Once I understood him better, I was certain it would be easier to drop him in the Dark Lord's lap.

But all of that mattered very little if I didn't win his affections in the first place. Things hadn't gone exactly according to plan, but it certainly wasn't a failure. I could feel Potter's attraction to me, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't the all-consuming, fiery passion that would make him crumble in the end. Leaving him with Corner was a massive chance I had taken. So early in the game, Corner could convince Potter that he loved him and leave Potter shut down to my advances. However, I was fairly confident that Corner would fail to fully convince Potter of anything, and no matter how angry he got over our argument that day, the Gryffindor was certainly interested; I doubted there was much a sullen little Ravenclaw could do to counter that.

The parcel my father left me was a heavy weight in my robe pocket, so I went straight into my room and shut the curtains around my bed. With nimble fingers I removed the dull wrapping and found inside a small velvet box. With a creak it opened revealing a ring inside.

I had seen this same ring on my father's hand for the last sixteen years and -to my knowledge- he had never removed it. I wondered briefly if it was his ring or a replica of it. The band was silver, but the face reflected the Malfoy crest set into black onyx. When I reached for it, I could feel the magic imbued inside the bauble like it was a tangible force. Strong spells were cast into this ring even as the metal was forged and melted.

Once I studied the ring over I noticed that a note was tucked into the box with it, so I eagerly unfolded it and began to read my father's perfect script.

_Draco, _

_This heirloom has been found out at the Ministry for what it is, a dark artifact. They plan to search for it here before the week is out, but I daresay they'll not find it. I'm turning it over to your keeping, Draco, as it would have been yours come graduation regardless. _

_Please exert the utmost care and restraint when using it, and be sure to keep it with you always. It holds very powerful protection magic inside of it, and the bearer will remain safe through anything short of the killing curse. _

_It also holds a transportation spell inside of it that rivals even the Ministry Portkey. It will always bring you to the Manor, even through Hogwarts wards, by merely spinning the ring on your finger and saying the spell 'Illic est haud locus amo domus'._

_Stay safe my son._

_Lucius _

This could indeed come in handy. I slipped the ring onto the middle finger of my right hand and smiled, feeling the protective magics wrap around my body like silk sheets. It wouldn't be long now before most of the Malfoy possessions were passed down to me. An odd feeling crept over me as I realized I would soon be taking my father's place in the world, stepping into Lord Malfoy's shoes. I hoped to do that with honor, and the kind of honor I would need could only be bought with Potter's blood.

I slipped off to the showers where I stood under the warm spray and let my folly and regrets of the past flow down the drain. I was renewed with a sense of purpose. It was as if my father knew what I was now planning, and the ring on my finger was his sign on approval, his blessing if you will.

It was only as I finished and began toweling myself dry in front of the massive bathroom mirrors that I noticed the dark green mark on my arm: a skull and snake. Not my first choice of a tattoo, but then it wasn't my design.

I wondered briefly what Potter would think if he saw it and decided it was far too soon to let him. No doubt he would flip out, and my plan would be a failure.

After rummaging in my nightstand I finally found an ointment my father had given me to conceal the mark. I hadn't bothered until now, most of the Slytherin's knew I had it, and everyone who saw me without my robes on had wanted me specifically for it. But for Potter, I would hide it.

For this game to work he couldn't know how deep I was; for this plan to work he had to fall in love with me, and that would never happen if he knew who I really was. Harry Potter could never love a Death Eater.

I rubbed the icy liquid onto my arm and watched as the tattoo faded into milky white flesh. With a smile and an unmarred arm, I fell asleep that night feeling content and productive. Fantasies of a naked Potter would fill my dreams, but tomorrow another day would dawn and I would set out once again to make that fantasy become reality.

Soon enough, Potter would be mine.

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Authors Note: Muahahaha. Sorry, I just sort of thought that the end deserved some maniacal laughter. I hope you all enjoy how the story is evolving so far.


	4. Harry: Bad Day

Authors Note: Now it's Laurel's turn. This chapter is her's. You can either review here, or on her profile (DreamingInColour) or if you're extra diligent you could review on both. lol.

Chapter 4 – Harry – Bad Day

Malfoy blinked at the prediction, but I could tell he thought it was just a load of tosh, who wouldn't think that when the eyes looking into the 'future' belonged to Sybill Trelawney.

"Are you sure?" he scoffed. "It might just be the Grim or some other trite nonsense such as that."

I snorted with laughter. Malfoy must have heard of Trelawney's usual predictions concerning me as this was our first year having Divination together. I was actually surprised he was taking it; I would have thought he considered himself too good for a class like this. Then again, I didn't really know all _that_ much about him.

Despite Malfoy's disregard for the tealeaf reading, it still got under my skin. I couldn't work out what to make of Trelawney's predictions. Normally, I took her 'seer' moments with a grain of salt, but this time I wasn't so sure. I had seen her make a genuine prediction before, back in third year: she'd completely spaced out and hadn't even remembered saying anything afterwards. This time, I could tell she was completely lucid and didn't know what to make of it, but her predictions sounded so _genuine_.

'_Judas and betrayal?' _Well, that wasn't so much a prediction as an observation. My friends and my House – people I once considered family – had all betrayed my trust by abandoning me. Not that what I did was acceptable or that they shouldn't have been angry, but to dump me like a newborn giraffe? That's a bit extreme. I _do_ feel betrayed.

But what did that say about the authenticity of Trelawney's predictions? Could even she, locked up here in her ivory tower, have heard about my fall from grace? Even if she hadn't, was it really so hard to deduce? Here I am, 'Gryffindor's Poster Child' according to Malfoy, sitting here with a Slytherin – I would go so far as to say Slytherin's Poster Child – when there are other Gryffindors in the room for me to sit with.

'_Love and longevity?' _Now _that _prediction was a stretch! Nobody who looked at me thought longevity. I could see it in their eyes: they were all wondering how long I would live. Hell, even _I_ wondered how long I would live.

It was easy to say she was just making them up, but – in my experience – Trelawney was an unoriginal fraud who wore those thick glasses for a reason: to her, the outside world was nothing but a when she 'saw my future', she saw 'the Grim': she saw my untimely death; they _all_ did! She – along with everyone else – knew that one day I would come face to face with the most powerful Dark Lord of the age and was nothing but a 16 year old kid. What hope did I possibly have of walking away from that battle?

So why, then, would she have predicted love and a long life? It made no sense.

_Love. _That was my other worry. Love? Just the thought made me nervous. I was a very emotional person; I felt things deeply, which was why I often came across as being a little on edge. When I was friends with somebody, I was a true friend in the deepest sense – unwavering loyalty, complete trust, total faith – which was why my abandonment had cost me so much. When I hated somebody I hated them furiously – which is why this exchange with Malfoy has me so confused. And if I was ever gifted love – I would love them truly and for as long as I had breath in my body. But I could _not_ fall in love: a long life was never something I was destined for and I could never – in good conscience – leave my lover a broken widow.

"Is she mad or what?" Malfoy's voice yanked me unceremoniously from my thoughts and I realized I was still sitting at that little table with him in Divination.

"What?" I asked, still distracted. I didn't care what he had to say, but I wasn't about to be rude to the one person in this castle that still seemed to be talking to me.

He nodded his head towards Professor Trelawney who was now sitting with Lavender Brown, feeding her some nonsense about Prince Charming and a June wedding.

What a load of crap.

I instantly felt better. She really was crazy. Those predictions meant nothing.

"Definitely off her rocker," I laughed, nodding my head to emphasise the point.

"How she stays under employ here is beyond me. I've complained to my father about her, but he says Dumbledore is adamant about keeping the old bat around," Malfoy told me pompously.

What a self important git! It infuriated me that his whole world – no, sorry, in _his _opinion _the_ whole world – revolved around the Malfoy family and his father, _Lord _Malfoy. What a joke! _Lord Malfoy_ who kneels at the feet of a lunatic. Oh yes, _very_ important Malfoy, your father spit shines the shoes of the monster who cowers at my very _existence_. I was sooo impressed. Sometimes, I wished I could literally knock some sense into his brain so he could see what a phony his father really was!

I tried to keep a hold of my anger, and for the most part I think I succeeded. I hated the fact he was still able to fire me up so completely, but – worse – I hated the fact that he delighted in it. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"Do you always run to daddy when something doesn't go your way?" I asked calmly. There was still an edge to my voice, though, and it undoubtedly gave away my harsher intentions.

"Father and I are close," he said flatly. "You shouldn't judge what you don't understand."

I felt like he'd punched me: the way I always felt when he took it upon himself to remind me that he had parents and I didn't. This time, however, it was worse because I couldn't even comfort myself with the idea that at least I had Hermione and Ron.

'_Like I'm jealous of _your _father, Malfoy!' _I thought to myself. _'He's nothing but a Death Eater!'_

My fury rose in me again, but this time I was unable to control it. I was _very _aware of the fact that we were still sitting in the small Divination room and I tried not to draw too much attention to our argument. "I understand he's a Death Eater," I bit out, voicing my thoughts.

I didn't expect any sort of revealing response – I just wanted him to know that I knew – so when he did eventually speak, he floored me with his openness. "My father has always done what is needed to keep us safe. If the only option he saw was to join the strongest side, then I have no doubt he would have made that choice," he replied. It was carefully worded, but I knew what he was trying to say. His father _was_ a Death Eater and he stood by that decision. He, too, thought I would fail.

"There is always more than one choice available to us, Malfoy," I replied quietly. Malfoy seemed to know so little about life – he knew so little about death. I wanted to tell him there were things more important than your own life, things worse than your own death, but I didn't – he was too wrapped up in his father's and his own importance. Lucius wouldn't agree with me and, to Malfoy, Lucius' word was gospel.

He rolled his eyes and it hurt me to think I was letting him continue walking the path that would lead to his own destruction. "Not to be rude, Potter, but you of all people should know what would have come of making a different choice," he said.

Ouch. Another stab at my parents. Did he actually believe I'd be better off in his situation: a child of darkness who still has his parents by his side? Like my parents even had that choice – of course, they had made their decision long before I was born – but following my birth and that prophecy, they _really_ had no choice. It would have been me or Voldemort.

"Really Potter, has there never been a time, even one random second, where you resented the choices your parents made? If they had done what my father did, they'd still be here with you," he pressed.

Why couldn't Malfoy just learn to let some things drop? Does he think because I told him about Mike that I want to get all touchy-feely about my parents? Like we're _friends_ now and anything is fair game?

_Then again, isn't that what you want, Harry?_ I asked myself. Not even an hour ago I had decided to encourage a relationship with Malfoy to see where it would go: to see how he might be able to help me with Voldemort. Here I was with an opportunity to reveal a harsh truth to the Slytherin and hopefully encourage his sympathy.

I decided to take it.

"Voldemort would have killed me," I replied, still sounding colder than I'd like; I hated him talking about my parents. "It wasn't a matter of joining or not; it was a matter of die or let Voldemort kill _me_. How can I be resentful of people who gave up their own lives so that I could have a shot at one?"

He seemed dumbstruck by the new information and I could only hope it had the effect I wanted it to have. "The Dark Lord was after you?" he asked, sounding confused – rightly so I'd say. What is logical about a Dark Lord as 'important' as Voldemort actively seeking to kill one particular baby? Nothing, unless you know of the prophecy. I wasn't going to give him _that _information though: only a select few knew about that. People I trusted – or at least used to trust…

I decided to change the direction of the conversation back to him, trying to make him understand. "What would your father have done if Voldemort gave him that choice? Would he have saved _you_ or himself and your mother?" I asked.

"Two lives are more important that one," he replied immediately. He sounded robotic, automated, like he'd been brainwashed and it was a rule he'd had drummed into his head.

I felt sick when he said that.

Poor Malfoy. He had this look on his face like he felt sick too. I felt sorry for him. Shouldn't your parents love you more than they love themselves? Isn't it programmed into you once you procreate?

"Your parents sound cold," I said quietly. As I heard myself speak I realised I'd just probably made him feel worse and my hand moved over automatically to comfort him, he smacked it away.

"Do not presume that one civil conversation gives you the right to judge my life, Potter. You can keep your high and mighty sentiments to yourself," he snapped, sharply reminding me who I was talking to.

I silently berated myself for letting myself forget in the first place. I was freshly aware that I would have to watch myself around him. He was able to suck me in far too easily and I needed to be careful, to protect myself.

By the time I went to respond, Malfoy was halfway out the door.

Class was over.

-

"Come to trounce your superiority over me some more, Potter?" he asked evenly, looking hurt. I don't know why I followed him in here. My brain had briefly short circuited and I was standing in the bathroom with Malfoy before I had a chance to rethink it.

I cringed at his words. I felt bad enough as it was and I knew he was rubbing it in on purpose to make me feel worse. Congratulations, Malfoy, job well done. I wasn't going to apologise though: they were hard realities to face, but necessary if I was going to win him over to my side somehow. I felt guilty all over again as I remembered that once I had won him I would need to use him to take down Voldemort and his followers – his father included.

"Look, Malfoy..." I started, pushing my guilt aside and wanting to try and mend the fragile truce we had wordlessly established; if I lost that I would lose my window to Voldemort.

Before I had the chance to launch into my 'let's just avoid talking about our parents' speech, he had grabbed my wrists in both his hands and pushed me roughly up against the bathroom wall. He pinned my hands above my head and leaned in close. I didn't fight him: I didn't want to.

"No you look," he whispered hotly. "I don't need this back and forth from you. I was trying to be civil, trying to share things with you because somehow we got thrown into the same lot together. I was trying to make the best of it, and you threw it back in my face."

His breath tickled my lips warmly as he spoke and I suddenly felt extremely vulnerable; not that I thought he would hurt me, but I was worried I might want him to hurt me in the best way possible. I felt his knee press into me and brush across my groin; I knew from the mischievous glint in his eyes that he was doing it on purpose.

He was getting bolder: no more flirtatious suggestions – Malfoy meant business. I was no longer worried that I would lose my newest link to Voldemort, I was now worried I would lose my virginity right here in this bathroom – to Draco Malfoy.

My heart was pumping so fast it had me panting and it was all I could do to try and keep my breathing steady. I knew better than to give in to my desires and let Malfoy just have me like he wanted, as much as I wanted to throw myself in this feeling and lose myself in it just for a while, I knew all he wanted was to tick off the Harry Potter box on his list of 'People I haven't had sex with yet.'

"I'm just having a bad day, Malfoy," I sighed.

"We all have bad days, Potter. It doesn't give you the right to be cruel," he bit out.

_Me? Cruel? Oh that's rich!_ I thought. I couldn't help myself, I had to laugh. What a joke!

"I wasn't being cruel," I replied. "I was being honest. It was your idea to bring up our parents."

"Clearly we can't talk to one another," he whispered no longer looking angry, but disappointed. "So where does that leave us?" he continued, leaning into me suggestively.

For a second I thought he was going to kiss me, but I didn't move - I didn't struggle. I knew if he kissed me, I would probably kiss him back. I would probably let go and just let him have me. I felt so broken – even though I tried to forget about my friends and move on, I just couldn't, I still loved them – and I wanted to see if he could allow me even a moment's peace to forget my problems in a crashing orgasm.

He didn't kiss me. He just stood there – hovering – like he was waiting for _me_ to kiss _him_. That was taking things a bit too far, I was happy to be a passive participant in this exchange, but not an active one.

It was just then I noticed the bathroom door open behind him and I realised what a suggestive position we were in. Fantastic. More rumours to add to the collection that were already circulating about me. _Harry Potter is with Ginny Weasley, Michael Corner AND Draco Malfoy! Who else is the Gryffindor slut doing?_

And then I saw the intruder's face and I gasped at the shock of it. It was Mike. _Shit!_ I'd been sprung, doing what? – even I wasn't sure.

I should have struggled under Malfoy's grip. I should have wriggled free, but I was frozen underneath him. _Not again. _First Ginny walked in on me with Mike, and now – not even twenty-four hours later – Mike was walking in on me with Malfoy.

I wanted to scream to him that it wasn't what it looked like, that I wasn't cheating on him, but my tongue seemed stuck to the roof of my mouth.

"What's going on here, Harry?" Mike asked me, looking hurt, like he was thinking that I was nothing but a filthy cheater.

Malfoy looked over to the door, noticing Mike for the first time, and, when he turned back to face me, he didn't look pleased about the intrusion. "I'd like to see where you and I might lead," he whispered seductively into my ear. "You intrigue me, Potter."

I felt my insides turn to jelly. That boy had some serious sex appeal.

Draco swept out of the bathroom leaving me alone and defenceless with a very pissed off looking Mike. I felt my insides seize up when I realised I didn't know what to say here; I couldn't tell him the truth – that Malfoy was trying to seduce me and before he walked in I was dangerously close to giving in – Malfoy was seriously hot, there wasn't a man in all of Hogwarts that wouldn't feel threatened by Malfoy if he was interested in their boyfriend… or girlfriend, whatever the case may be.

"Hey," I greeted Mike carefully.

"Is that all you have to say? Seriously?" Mike scoffed, looking blindsided like he couldn't believe he was in this situation; I could understand where he was coming from – he was supposed to be the _other _lover not the one being cheated on.

"I don't know what to tell you," I replied honestly. "I know it looks bad, but it wasn't anything, I swear."

"Really? Did you tell Ginny the same thing?" he spat harshly.

"No! Jesus, Mike!" I yelled, that was just a bit below the belt for my liking. "I hate Malfoy! And he hates me! He's just getting off on the fact that I'm gay!"

"Yeah, I could see that!" he snapped.

Okay, I had to give him that; I just walked straight into that one!

"Not like that!" I huffed at him twisting my words on me. "He's just being a prat about the famous Harry Potter being a pouf, he wants to make sure I know he knows," I said, wondering how much of that was the truth and how much of it was a lie; I honestly didn't know.

"_Everyone _knows, Harry," Mike said softly. It looked like he was calming down a little bit.

"I know," I sighed. "They all know about you too. I'm so sorry; I wish it didn't have to come out like this."

"Yeah, my dad isn't happy," he sighed.

I was afraid of that. He always said his father was homophobic.

"If it had been with anyone but you he may have disowned me," he confessed.

"Really!?" I gasped, my eyebrows flew up into my fringe; I didn't think things were that serious.

"Yeah, well, not legally, but I'd be, let's say, _unwelcome _if I were to be myself, as it is I think he may be slightly impressed that I managed to snag _you _as my boyfriend," he said smiling slightly. He was no longer angry, but I could tell he hadn't exactly forgiven me yet.

"What did he say?" I asked, curious. I wanted to stay with Mike; it would make things easier with Malfoy if I had a boyfriend – someone I was committed to – and besides, I did genuinely like him.

"He just ranted about me being a faggot and then said 'so Harry Potter eh?' and that was it," Mike shrugged. "It was the best I could have hoped for really."

I smiled. "Does that mean we're…?"

"Not if Malfoy keeps pinning you against bathroom walls," Mike replied, smirking a little, but still sounding serious.

"Not an issue," I smiled and walked over to him grabbing the front of his robes in my fists and pulling him up against me.

I kissed him lightly at first, not sure if he was still angry with me. I didn't want to look like I was overcompensating for any guilt I might – okay, maybe _did_ – feel.

Mike smiled, seemingly satisfied. "Seriously, he looked like he wanted to kill me with his eyes when I interrupted. Are you sure he wasn't planning on fucking you into the tiles?"

I just laughed, trying not to sound nervous. I was actually positive that was exactly what he wanted to do. "Please," I said, rolling my eyes. "Like I'd ever let him touch me: he's a fuckin' _Slytherin!_ Besides, you are so much more delectable." Okay, maybe I was overcompensating just a little bit.

"Really?" Mike teased me, sounding extremely sexy. "Is that so?" Oh God. I was starting to get hard. Hey, shut up! I was sixteen, alright? Mike could sneeze and I'd get a hard on!

"Mmph," was how my 'yes' came out, muffled into his mouth and around his tongue which was lapping at my own.

"Perhaps _I_ should fuck you into the tiles," he purred after pulling his mouth away from mine.

I was at full mast by now and he pressed his hip into me to show me how aware he was of this fact. "Mmm," I moaned agreeably, before pulling him into another kiss. My body was reacting in all the right ways, but for some reason he didn't turn me on as thoroughly as he used to: there were no butterflies, no full-body hot flushes; just a burning groin and a hard dick. I refuse to believe _Malfoy _had anything to do with that though – I was just having a really bad day.

"Oh shit! Sorry," I heard a small voice gasp behind Mike, before the bathroom door slammed shut. Someone had walked in on me _again_! Perhaps this wasn't the most private place.

"We should probably go," I pouted at Mike, wishing I could just tear his clothes off.

"Yeah, probably," he sighed, sounding about as disappointed as I did.

-

Mike and I had decided not to purposely flaunt our relationship in front of anyone. We were coping with enough scandal as it was, and bouncing into the Great Hall for breakfast hand in hand would probably just make things worse. At least, that was the plan for now.

I sat by myself at breakfast the next morning. I was being thoroughly ignored in Gryffindor Tower, except for the small smile Neville afforded me as I entered our dorm room the night before: it made a world of difference. I was no longer being harassed at least – being invisible and ignored was not unfamiliar to me after my years with the Dursleys and I coped with it fairly well considering. I just went about my life quietly. I think the lack of abuse was Hermione's doing: I could easily imagine her telling them all to leave me alone. It was nice of her, but I still noticed she avoided my gaze just as much as the others.

I noticed Malfoy eying me during breakfast that morning. I would look up every now and again and he would be discretely staring at me; I could tell he was pleased I noticed. It gave me butterflies to think he was paying attention to me, but it was still irritating. I'm not sure if it was the staring that I found annoying – that all Mike would have to do was glance at him and he would see him looking at me – or if I was annoyed that I was actually sort of enjoying it in a twisted way.

Disgusted with myself – and to avoid Mike noticing anything untoward – I got up from my half finished breakfast and left the Great Hall to get my books while the rest of my dorm mates were still eating. On my way back down from Gryffindor Tower, as I made my way to Transfiguration, I was thinking over this whole Malfoy situation when I ran head first into another student. My books scattered across the floor in every direction and I swore silently to myself and to the student that ran into me – probably on purpose.

I looked up to see who it was in case they were planning some additional act of homophobia. I was surprised to see it was Malfoy and he was just standing there smiling at me.

"Jesus, Malfoy," I huffed, feigning my annoyance and sighing at all my books spread along the corridor. I expected him to laugh or make some snide comment as he watched me pick them all up.

"Sorry, Harry," he smiled, looking unfazed and possibly pleased with himself. "Here, let me help you with this," he said as he bent and began picking up all my things.

I just watched him gather everything and didn't help once: I was just too shocked. Malfoy wouldn't do this for _any_body, not even his friends, yet here he was picking up all my books. Perhaps yesterday _did_ happen.

"Here you are," he said handing them all over to me.

"Uh, thanks," I said, accepting them back tentatively. He smiled at me again and walked gracefully down the corridor leaving me completely stunned in his wake.

I didn't see Malfoy again for the rest of the day except at meals, and he didn't glance at me even once. I wondered what he was doing with me. It felt suspiciously like he was playing with me, confusing me on purpose to meet some end. I wasn't sure what he was doing or why so I couldn't tell if I was playing right into his hands or if I was being uncooperative. I hoped it was the latter.

I did still want to foster a relationship with him – if only to get closer to Voldemort – and I wasn't yet sure how I could do that when I was still dating Mike. Understandably, he wasn't thrilled with Malfoy right now and he was dead against him even being in the same room as me, let alone talking to me or being _friends _with me. I would have to manage it somehow though, since defeating Voldemort was more important than dating Mike. However, I was certain that if I didn't have a boyfriend to ground me, Malfoy would suck me into his world before I even knew what was happening.

It was getting late and I hadn't seen Malfoy since yesterday morning. I found myself almost looking for him at meals before I managed force myself to focus on my dinner plate rather than who was or wasn't sitting at the Slytherin table. I was walking back to my room from the library, where I was spending a lot of my time these days away from Gryffindor Tower, when I saw another student walking towards me.

"Hey," he said. My body flushed as I noticed his familiar blonde hair and arrogant swagger.

"Hi," I greeted in return, not knowing what else to say.

"Still an outcast I see?" he teased slightly.

I tried to smile, but I still wasn't used to being alone. Just this evening for example, I found a book in the library that Hermione would just love to get her hands on and I almost ran straight up to the common room to show her; of course, then I remembered we weren't friends anymore. "Yes, well I've come to accept it," I said sounding contrived.

"Have you?" Malfoy countered raising his eyebrows so I knew he thought I was lying.

"No," I admitted sadly after a short silence. "But what other choice do I have?"

"You could join me in Slytherin," he joked; I could tell he was trying to lighten the mood. "Apparently you belong there anyway."

"Oh, Mike would love that," I forced myself to laugh and hoped it sounded genuine.

"So there's still a Mike then?" he asked.

"Yes, there's still a Mike," I replied with a slight smirk. I thought he would be unhappy about this given his parting words in the bathroom, but he didn't show anything other than curiosity.

"Interesting," he mused. "How did he take the bathroom incident?"

"Oh, he was very pleased," I replied sarcastically.

Malfoy laughed at this. It was nice to hear: I wasn't sure I'd ever heard him laugh before – I had heard him snicker and chuckle evilly before, but never genuinely laugh.

"He wants me to stay away from you," I confessed. I wanted to see his reaction, to see if he would give anything away.

"He said that?" he smiled; he just looked amused at the notion. Typical Malfoy, he was so arrogant to think that Mike wasn't a threat in the least, that he couldn't prevent him from getting to me.

"Not in so many words, but yes," I answered honestly. I didn't smile, I wasn't amused.

"Do you plan to?" he asked seriously. I thought he looked almost worried now, given my reaction. He was right though: Mike couldn't prevent him from getting to me if I wanted him to. Mike couldn't stop me from doing anything.

"I make my own rules, Malfoy," I told him and, for the sake of dramatics – since I know how fond Malfoy is of them – I walked away without another word and without giving the blonde a chance to respond.

Authors Note: Now I have a challenge to answer!! How should Draco respond? lol


	5. Draco: Of Lions and Dragons

Authors Note: Many thanks to Robert who beta'ed this chapter for me. It's my turn again, lets see what I can make of Laurel's last cliffhanger.

Chapter 5 Draco Of Lions and Dragons

I decided the best course of action after the bathroom incident was to give Potter a bit of space. We had no shared classes through the day, so lingering gazes across the Great Hall would be all I would permit myself. I was far too eager to pull Potter in more fully, but I needed to keep my wits about me and refrain from being careless. It wouldn't do to rush things along, and although potter seemed less suspicious than I anticipated, he was still a volatile potion on the verge of exploding. It would be prudent to let the pot simmer for a while before bringing things back up to a boil.

Yes, seducing Potter would be like brewing a complex potion; one false stir and all of my efforts would be for not. In the end, if I did my job correctly, I would have Potter bottled, stoppered and delivered directly into the hands of my master.

A shiver coursed through my body as I even bothered to think the word 'master'. I tried very hard not to refer to him as that unless demanded to by my father or the Dark Lord himself. I'm not sure why, but the title unsettled me. I'm a Malfoy. I should have no master, but Lord Voldemort is clearly my superior, as well as everyone else's, so why did it fill me with such a vile feeling?

Chalking it up to the strict Malfoy upbringing of always being the best was the easiest way to banish the illness from my gut, so that's what I did.

Even though I had strict plans in place to hold back my attentions on the Gryffindor, breakfast was more eventful than I had anticipated.

I was pleased to note that no Ravenclaw blue clashed with Potter's Gryffindor red, and that he walked into the Great Hall alone and remained that way throughout breakfast. It had been the same the night before at Dinner as well, which made me wonder if Corner had broken things off with Potter after all- or perhaps it was the other way around.

I saw Harry look up on occasion, always trying to coyly pretend he wasn't seeking me out, but like magnets his green eyes seemed to locate me across the vast sea of bodies. I, on the other hand, was not attempting to hide that my interest was almost solely devoted to him, which wasn't really a ploy as much as the way I truly felt. Lucky for me, it bent well toward the part I was playing.

Suddenly, the rest of Slytherin had melted away into the background of this new chess game between Potter and I. Every thought I had revolved around ways that I could trick him. Endear him further to me; every word I spoke was calculated to the syllable to be what the Gryffindor wanted or needed to hear in that very moment.

Still, things veered off plan more than I liked, and though I had plotted carefully not to interact with him for a time, when I saw him abruptly leave his half finished breakfast and quickly exit the Hall, I was compelled to follow.

I wondered if he was arranging to meet with Corner in secret or if the other students had quietly ridiculed him, thus driving him away. I begrudgingly had to admit that any jealousy I had felt for Potter had quickly drained away when I saw how completely his so called 'friends' had abandoned him. I couldn't imagine that the Golden Boy was used to living the isolated life that had been thrust upon him of late. I myself had been raised –as most pureblood heirs were- to understand that no one could be trusted. I alone held the key to my victory or failure and I could not rely on someone else to help me with it. At an early age I was taught that a person was only a 'friend' when they could do something for you. Take what you can and give nothing back; not exactly the Malfoy family motto, but it might as well be.

I was pondering the Gryffindor's problematic new state and trying to figure out where he'd disappeared to when I literally ran right into him. Textbooks went flying and Potter ran a small, irritated hand through his hair, adjusted his glasses and then took a quick step backward, as if he was startled to see me standing there. We locked eyes for a moment before he shot me a very annoyed look and pursed his lips crossly.

"Jesus, Malfoy," he began to rant, sighing at the mess our collision had made of his books.

I tried for a smile, sure that the mirth I felt at causing the boy to stumble would come through but hoping it wouldn't look too malicious. "Sorry, Harry," I offered, trying to make him more flustered with the combination of his given name and an apology from my lips all at once. Surely even Potter would have to realize what a rarity that was.

He didn't say a word in response but I could feel his emerald stare boring into my back as I leaned down to gather his strewn books. I was curious as to whether or not Potter was aware of the massive gesture this presented. I've only once dropped my own books, it was Third year, and I was rushing to the greenhouses when I tripped on a stone in the path. Even then I made a frightened looking first year pick them all up. Never have I picked up after someone else, and without magic even! It was preposterous really, but Potter did seem additionally stunned by my task, which made the labor worth the effort.

"Here you are," I added while he watched me with wide child-like eyes. It was as if he'd seen Santa Claus come to life right before him and I stifled a laugh. Eventually he reached out and accepted the offered books with a mumbled 'thanks'.

I could hardly contain my laughter at his open shock, so I simply smiled at him and turned to leave. As soon as I was certain he could no longer see me, I sprinted to the nearest empty classroom and let myself breathe through the laughter that filled me. His face had been priceless, and had I known how much easier it was to get a rise out of him through simple kind gestures, I might have taken up the habit years ago.

Clearly he had noticed that the minor good deed had been out of the norm for me. I kept playing his bright green stare over and over in my mind, smiling at his obvious shock and dismay. My mood was immediately sobered, however, when I looked down to see the Dark Mark quickly emerging into view. The ointment's power was fading, making the mark appear in nearly black relief on my pale white forearm. I swiftly pulled my robe sleeve down and rushed off to the Slytherin dorms.

Chances were I wouldn't run into Potter again any time soon, nor would he be likely to notice what was hidden under my robes, but I often seemed to get carried away when I was near him. I couldn't run the risk of it. I decided that carrying the cream with me might be the more advisable method from now on.

---------------------------------------------------------

I noticed that Potter was beginning to spend a good deal of his free time in the library –alone- and that twinge of pity that had driven me after him during breakfast accosted me once more. It had been fairly easy to ignore him after our run in on the stairs because Pansy was once more flapping her lips about my plans for the Golden Boy, and I had to run interference. It was all I could do not to hex her before Harry could catch wind of the rumor, but that would be strongly frowned upon. I didn't need my father bearing down on me after his most recent letter, which showed a lack of his usual disappointed disposition toward me. I had no intention of sullying that now.

I was too preoccupied with the ring on my finger to think much about the gossiping slag, though. A million questions had surfaced throughout the day as I fingered it during class. It was an odd weight on my hand and kept pulling my attention toward it. It was halfway through Runes when I thought of what might be my most brilliant idea ever –and that's saying something.

There was no opportunity to do anything about it until after dinner, however, so as soon as I was finished, I made the trek down to the Slytherin common room where I scribbled out a quick and precise letter to my father.

_Father,_

_Your gift was most generous, but I had a question about it. You mentioned that the ring has the power to transport someone from the manor, even through Hogwarts wards. Would it also transport someone else, were I to bring someone along for an extended visit for instance?_

_Draco_

I didn't want to say too much, for fear that he knew nothing of my plans to capture Potter, though I was certain he would approve. I didn't want to run the risk of his interfering with my plans or getting the Dark Lord's hopes up that I would succeed. I was confident that my victory was imminent, but to have Voldemort's displeasure looming over me like a circling vulture would not make things any easier.

I delivered the letter to Snape, who I knew would in turn get it discreetly to my father. The potions master was grading papers when I arrived, and I could tell he was aware of my presence, though he gave no indication toward me. I cleared my throat, and still he avoided my stare until finally it seemed he was ready to grace me with his attention.

"Mr. Malfoy," he greeted coolly. "What brings you here so close to curfew?"

"I need you to get this to my father," I replied levelly, placing the folded parchment on the desk in front of him.

He took it with a swift movement, and it disappeared in the depths of his thick black robes before I could blink. I nodded and turned to leave but his hypnotic voice drifted over me and made me halt.

"A word," he said, and I turned to agree at once. Every Slytherin learned early on not to defy the Head of House any request. "There are rumors circulating of your plans for Potter."

"And?" I replied carefully, not knowing what exactly he heard, but Snape was unwittingly observant, so chances were he knew quite a bit.

"_And_- I believe you have more in mind than sneaking your way into the Gryffindor's knickers," he told me crudely.

"That's because you're far more perceptive than my housemates," I offered. "I'd prefer that your revelation not extend to my father or the Dark Lord, though. I don't want their wrath if I fail."

"If you fail you'll be dead," Snape intoned coldly, and a shiver ran up my spine.

"Not if they remain none the wiser," I countered.

"The price on your head for tricking Potter will be high, and many will be bidding, but the highest amount will not be paid from the Slytherin camp, Draco," he replied vaguely.

"I'm not following you," I told him honestly. I swear the man was spending so much time with that old crackpot Dumbledore that he was beginning to sound just like him.

"Do you really think the Gryffindor's will allow such a slight to go unanswered? They may hate the boy right now, but many are still loyal enough to what he stands for to enact revenge upon the man –or _boy_- who brings him to his end," Snape replied, his obsidian eyes slithering across my face.

"Well, that's just more incentive to succeed," I replied, though my pulse had shot up a bit.

"Or incentive to stop before it's too late," he corrected.

"It's already too late," I told him honestly, and it was. I had already sunk my fangs to deeply into Potter's succulent flesh. I would see this thing through and get my reward, even if it killed me in the end.

The professor sighed heavily and shook his head. "I should know better than to argue with a Malfoy, but when the time comes I'll happily be the one to tell you 'I told you so'."

"That's very generous," I replied sarcastically. "Is that all?"

"Yes, saving your worthless skin was all I had planned to discuss. Out with you," he replied with a wave, went back to his paperwork, and back to ignoring me.

I rolled my eyes and made a hasty exit before Snape changed his mind and decided to lecture me again.

-------------------------------------------------

I didn't feel like going back to the common room after my chat with Snape, so I decided I would see if my favorite Gryffindor was out and about. Luck was on my side because the moment I rounded the corner I was staring into his wide green eyes as he was leaving the library- yet again.

"Hey," I greeted, as I approached him. He looked a tad flustered and it made me wonder if I had interrupted something, but it looked as though he was still alone.

"Hi," he replied awkwardly, and I smiled at the sight of his flushed cheeks.

"Still an outcast I see?" I observed and he just shrugged.

"Yes, well I've come to accept it," he responded, but the tone was far more bitter than it should have been had he been truthful.

"Have you?" I asked, not trying to hide that I was on to his denial.

A lingering silence floated between us, and I noticed his feet shifted beneath his robes nervously. I trained from a young boy not to have so many telling gestures. I could almost always force the desired expression onto my face without giving away any of my true emotions.

Finally, he huffed a brief 'No', and I watched his eyes shine with sorrow. "But what other choice do I have?" he added.

"You could join me in Slytherin," I offered teasingly. He and I both knew he'd be just as much of an outcast there. Though the fact that he was nearly sorted into Slytherin did intrigue me. I could only imagine the amount of fun I would have had with him if he'd shared my dorm. "Apparently you belong there anyway."

"Oh, Mike would love that," he said with a laugh, and I could feel my shoulders tense without my permission.

"So there's still a Mike then?" I asked lightly, hoping not to give away the murderous rage I felt toward the Corner boy. I tried to remind myself that he was merely an obstacle that needed to be dealt with, nothing more. Certainly nothing to get so upset over, but I still didn't know the depth of their relationship, which unnerved me.

He looked at me quizzically for a moment, as if I'd asked the wrong question. "Yes, there's still a Mike," he said at last.

"Interesting," I lied. I didn't find it interesting at all; I found it irritating. "How did he take the bathroom incident?" I asked, hoping perhaps he begged for the Gryffindor to keep his worthless arse instead of Potter begging him.

"Oh, he was very pleased," Harry replied, his voice thick with sarcasm.

The image of Corner telling Harry off after finding us in such a compromising position made me laugh. I wondered how long it took Harry to convince his boyfriend that he wasn't interested in me, which was obviously a lie.

"He wants me to stay away from you," Harry blurted, confirming my assumption that Potter had fibbed his way out of breaking up with Corner. He then paused, watching me too carefully.

This was a test, but it hardly mattered. My reaction would have been the same even if I hadn't been playing a part. I shot him my trademark smirk and let him see in my eyes how much the notion amused me. "He said that?"

"Not in so many words, but yes," he replied levelly, and my heart skipped a beat or two. Harry looked angry, maybe even resolved. Could Corner have actually convinced him to stay away from me? That just wouldn't do.

"Do you plan to?" I asked worriedly, though I tried not to make it too terribly obvious. I'm certain I failed though, because Potter's face formed the hint of a triumphant smile and I silently groaned having fallen into his trap.

"I make my own rules, Malfoy," he replied softly and walked away abruptly.

I was dumbfounded at first, and had Malfoy's been permitted to gape, I surely would have done so just then. The little lion snot manipulated me, which was unacceptable. Still, I couldn't keep the smile from touching my lips as I thought of what a worthy opponent I was taking down. I used to think that Potter was a waste of my time and breath, but no, he was turning out to be multifaceted and explosive, which made for a very entertaining challenge.

"Well, well, there is a bit of Slytherin in you after all," I whispered to no one in particular as I made my way down to the dungeons and back to the dorms.

---------------------------------------------------

I woke up the next morning covered in sweat and probably the hardest erection I'd ever had. I could only recall snippets of the dreams I had been having, and all of them centered on Potter. It was making me impatient, but I couldn't afford to be that way. Still, the feeling of invisible lips all over me filled me with a sense of determination that I had yet to muster. I would do this, and my reward would be Potter's silken body under mine. I could just picture him sweating and groaning with every thrust. I could imagine the vivid clarity of his eyes when his orgasm hit and the way my name would sound whispered in his dulcet tones.

Then I wondered if he was a screamer instead. Perhaps I had it all wrong and he wasn't a delicate rosebud but actually like his fierce feline namesake. Maybe Potter would bite and claw and scream for me. Either way, he would be mine.

I snuck to the shower and let the warm spray soak into my skin as I wanked myself off to images of Potter riding me. It was the most vivid fantasy I'd ever permitted myself about the boy, and I got a bit carried away with it; so much so that I was startled when a sharp throat was cleared behind me.

Turning around, I spotted a very amused looking Blaise who only had eyes for the cock in my hand. "I could take care of that for you," he offered with a wink, but I rolled my eyes.

"Thanks. I've got it under control," I muttered. I made the mistake of letting Blaise blow me in Third year, and now he stalks me like I have the only dick in Slytherin.

"I can just watch then," he whispered, licking his lips and I rolled my eyes yet again, feeling distinctly less turned on all of a sudden. I looked away and quickly finished my shower, walking passed a disgruntled looking Blaise on my way back to my trunk. I dressed quickly and went to breakfast, where my eyes found Potter sitting alone once again at the Gryffindor table.

The dreams flowed back all at once, and I let the lust pour into my eyes so that my gaze reflected it when Potter looked up. It was starting to become a new game, trying to see how quickly I could make the Gryffindor blush. I smiled at him, and he nearly smiled back. Then I caught sight of his Ravenclaw boyfriend watching our exchange about the same time as Potter did, so he sneered at me instead.

Chuckling to myself I got up, took the apple I hadn't finished, and stuffed it into my robe pocket. I waited there until more students began filing out, and as soon as I saw Corner I walked up beside him, throwing my arm over his shoulders and matching his stride step for step.

"You and I have a bit of a problem," I informed him simply.

"Oh?" he asked, a mixture of fear and loathing in his voice. "How do you figure?"

"Well, you seem to have Harry, for now anyway, and you see, I want Harry. I'm sure I don't need to point out that a Malfoy always gets what he wants," I added with a smirk.

He tried to throw my arm off but I was taller and clearly more powerful, so he was denied. "Harry loves me," Corner reasoned as if that meant anything.

"Has he said that?" I asked. "Because he certainly hasn't mentioned that to me."

"Why would he? Harry can't stand you," he growled, a little bolder than I expected. It appeared that Corner would put up more of a fight than I had anticipated.

"Is that right?" I mused, letting my voice show Harry's boyfriend just how preposterous I thought the statement was. It was true of course, but it was also true that Potter was attracted to me, probably more so than he was to the inadequate Ravenclaw beside me. "Well, I suppose you have nothing to worry about then, hm?" I asked, and with a wink I walked away toward the Potions classroom.

-------------------------------------------------------

Potter arrived with only a moment to spare before being docked house points. He quickly took his seat at the table with me and shot me a weak smile.

"So, how have you been?" I asked, trying to make civil conversation and not bring up his snub in the Great Hall.

"Since last night?" he asked with a curious grin. "Fine. You?"

"More than fine, I'd say," I replied, remembering the dreams I'd had the night before.

"How nice for you," Harry replied sarcastically.

I merely shrugged, and we worked in virtual silence from that point. I was in the middle of stirring the potion when I looked over to see Potter staring at me as if I were a book he could study.

"What?" I asked, creasing my forehead into a deep frown.

"Tell me something?" he said.

"Tell you what?" I asked, not understanding his meaning.

"Something, anything, but it has to be honest," he amended.

I chuckled and shook my head. "Does this mean you don't think I've been honest?"

"Should I?" he asked and I chuckled again.

"That's not really for me to decide," I told him.

"Then tell me something," he repeated. I wasn't sure why he was so adamant, but I fell for it, well, partially. I thought for a moment until I recalled the perfect story to reel him in with.

"When I was a little boy, I used to have a pet dragon. I called him Leo because he had fiery golden scales, and the crest of his head flared out like a lion's mane. One night Leo snuck off and got outside somehow. He flew beyond the grounds and went missing. Father found him later that week and told me he'd been killed with a muggle shot gun," I told him, letting my face spell out how sad I had been when I lost my favorite childhood pet. "Father never liked him; especially after I named him Leo, even though I thought I was doing the lineage proud by choosing a constellation. I used to say that I would be in Gryffindor because my dragon was a lion and I wanted to be strong and brave just like my pet. Obviously, father didn't care too much for that line of thinking. I sort of suspect it was father who killed my dragon."

"Malfoy, that's so sad," he whispered, and I just looked away.

"It's life, Potter. We live until we don't anymore," I replied sullenly, milking the story for all it was worth. In reality, I almost did shed a tear or two for my lost pet and my cruel father, but I was a Malfoy, and Malfoy's don't cry.

We were silent again after that, but Potter kept glancing at me, so I decided to get a bit of a rise out of him in exchange for the truth he got from me. "So Potter, top or bottom?" I asked, nearly laughing as his eyes widened, and a flush tinged his delicate cheeks. He really was stunning when he blushed.

"Pardon?" he asked, looking like he hoped I was referring to something more mundane like bunk beds.

"Sex, Potter," I replied bluntly. "You got to ask me something personal, now it's my turn. Are you a top or a bottom?" I still hadn't gotten him to open up about how far he'd gone with Corner, and taking him off guard seemed to be the best way to get a truthful answer out of him.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he replied snidely, but the blush still burned crimson red on his face.

"I would, that was sort of the point of my question," I replied, not letting his blow off phase me.

"How about you then?" he asked, turning it around on me. Normally I wouldn't stand for such a thing, but I wanted to watch him squirm.

"Top, always," I replied, letting my tongue flick out and wet my bottom lip. "Your turn."

"What if I'm a top, too?" he asked defiantly.

"Are you?" I asked curiously. I didn't see Potter that way, but maybe Corner did.

He rolled his eyes and gave me a petulant sort of pout, which just made me want to sink my teeth into his bottom lip. "Well, I'm afraid you'll never find out, as I have a boyfriend, remember?"

"I remember, but if I'm not mistaken you also had a boyfriend that day I pinned you in the bathroom and you were certainly welcoming it then," I replied, letting my eyes sweep over him.

His blush deepened, but his words didn't betray him the way his face did. "I think the operative word there is 'pinned', Malfoy."

I laughed then, a light and indulging chuckle. "I'm not daft, Potter. You enjoyed every minute of that. You're plenty strong enough to have refused me, but you just stood there like a limp doll waiting for me to take you as my own."

"I was not," he argued, his lips tightening into a frown.

"Are you sure about that?" I whispered in his ear while I trailed my fingertips up his thigh. He shivered beneath me. I saw his eyes flick to where the Professor stood, but Snape was paying us no mind as I dug my fingers into the flesh just below his groin.

He hissed a sharp intake of breath and his eyelashes fluttered slightly, making the green orbs beneath them disappear behind a curtain of black.

"Does Corner make you this hot?" I asked, letting my voice purr across his body.

"Mike's a good person," he countered, avoiding my question.

"Clearly the same can't be said about me, but I think I have more to offer than you'll ever get from Corner," I replied, my fingers still dangerously close to his growing erection.

"Like?" he asked sharply. It seemed the question sparked something within him and he began to pull out of my trance.

"I can challenge you in ways he never could. You and I are a matched set, Harry. We're two sides to the same coin. Dark versus light, hot versus cold, our passion could burn brighter than any flame you've ever seen," I whispered, not even knowing where the words came from but knowing they were true the moment I spoke them out loud.

"I don't want a challenge. I want someone to hold me, care for me, and love me," he replied softly, and then looked away as if he hadn't meant to say so much.

"What if I could provide that as well?" I asked, my eyebrows raised and showing the curiosity I felt. Is that what it would take to bring Potter to me? Love? Could I simulate that well enough that Potter would believe me and follow me? Malfoy's can do anything.

"You can't," he replied sullenly.

"Are you so sure?" I asked, letting my grip trail up to his trim waist, but he pulled away.

"Yes, I'm sure," he answered firmly. "At most you and I can be friends, but that's all."

"That's not good enough," I protested before I could reel myself in.

He rolled his eyes, but the blush had faded from his cheeks and I could see that he was serious now. "It's that or nothing."

I narrowed my gaze and shook my head. A Malfoy doesn't give in that easily, and we certainly don't respond well to ultimatums. With a deep breath I pushed all of my anger at Harry's audacity to make demands of me aside and gave him my a weak smile before pushing a lock of jet back hair behind his ear and letting my fingers trail down his soft jaw line. "If that's what you want," I offered, making him see how much the idea hurt me, then I turned back to my work.

He just sat there and stared after me, but he didn't say a word to either agree or counter what I had said, which was what I wanted. So long as I wasn't shut out I could still win him. When class ended I gathered my things and shot him a shy smile. "I'll see you later, Harry," I told him and then left before he could answer, giving him a bit of his own medicine.

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Authors Note: And as things heat up, where will we find our pair next? Your turn Laurel!


	6. Harry: The Battle, But Not the War

Authors Note: Hooray! It's Laurel's turn to answer my challenge from chapter 5, though I think I went a bit light on her last time. As usual, review here or on her profile (DreamingInColour), either way we both love reading them.

Chapter 6 Harry – The Battle but not the War

I knew what happened in that bathroom had bothered Mike more than he let on. He never said anything more about it, but I could see it in his eyes sometimes when Malfoy was nearby. Mike would casually observe the blonde Slytherin – not staring at him or anything, just noting when he was in the room – and surreptitiously check if I was 'casually observing' the ice prince as well. The hardest part for me was that, well, I couldn't help but notice Malfoy everywhere I went.

Breakfast the next morning was no different. Malfoy was watching me like I was a chocolate pudding that he wanted to roll around on his tongue and Mike was watching him like he was the devil incarnate. All these exchanged glances were making me nervous, I felt like something was going to happen, but I didn't know what and I didn't know which one to watch first, so I compromised and ended up watching them both.

I hung back after breakfast that morning, like I had the last few mornings, to wait for my roommates – namely Ron – to get their books from the common room before I went in to get mine. I dawdled a little too long this morning though, and I was almost late to Potions. I made it just in time to slip unnoticed into my seat beside Malfoy.

"So, how have you been?" he asked me. I hoped I didn't look as tired as I felt, but if I did he didn't say anything about it.

"Since last night?" I asked him with a saccharine smile. I wondered if I might actually fling myself off the Astronomy Tower if I let myself think about how bad my life had gotten; I mean things _must_ have been bad if Malfoy's company made me feel better, right,? "Fine. You?"

"More than fine I'd say," he replied. He had this smug look on his face like he'd gotten laid last night. Maybe he had. It wouldn't surprise me.

"How nice for you," I replied unimpressed. For some reason the idea of Malfoy having sex with someone else didn't sit right with me. I shouldn't care: it certainly wasn't my business, and I was with Mike anyway.

He just shrugged and started preparing the next stage of our potion, so I followed his lead and we worked together in silence.

I wondered who he was sleeping with and if they meant anything to him. Probably not, I mused to myself; the only person who meant anything to Malfoy was Malfoy. It was probably Blaise Zabini: he was _always _hanging off him and he was such a bicycle; I'd even heard of straight boys having a go with him. I remembered the night where he'd propositioned to Ron at a Gryffindor party that some of the Slytherins crashed in their usual fashion. Ron went on about it for weeks afterward: that was how I knew I could never tell my best friend that I was gay; Ron was a complete homophobe.

As if Malfoy would degrade himself by risking catching something from someone like _Zabini_! No, if Malfoy had sex last night it was definitely not with that… that _whore_ of a Slytherin. He wouldn't do that, would he?

… Would he?

To tell the truth, I actually didn't know. According to the rumor mill, Malfoy was about as loose as they came; but, those were just rumours… right? Well, he was certainly smart enough to keep it under wraps if it wasn't just rumours, not like Zabini who practically screwed people in the middle of class for everyone to see. Actually, Malfoy was smart enough to keep a lot of things under wraps. More than once I've thought he was smarter than he let on, Hermione always thought he accidentally let pieces of information slip – I never said anything to her, but I always disagreed. I never really admitted it to myself either, but sometimes I had gotten the impression that Malfoy only let the world see what he wanted them to see.

"What?" Malfoy asked, frowning at me with a strange emotion flitting behind his eyes. I think I must have been staring at him. Damn.

I was still wondering what the _real_ Malfoy was like: the one he kept to himself. "Tell me something?" I requested, suddenly determined to get closer to Malfoy, to learn more about him, to learn who he really was. Strictly for the purpose of taking Voldemort down, I told myself.

"Tell you what?" he asked, still frowning, but his face seemed softer.

"Something, anything, but it has to be honest," I continued.

He just shook his head at me and laughed. "Does this mean you don't think I've been honest?"

"Should I?" I retorted; Malfoy wasn't renowned for his honesty. He just laughed at me again.

"That's not really for me to decide," he replied.

"Then tell me something," I pressed.

I didn't really think he would oblige me, at least not in the way I wanted, but he surprised me by telling me a story from his childhood. It was total crap, of course. He used to think he was going to be put in Gryffindor because he had a dragon that he named after a lion? Pull the other one, Malfoy! I could _talk _to snakes and the hat didn't put me in Slytherin! … Okay, maybe it tried to, but … oh shut up!

I stand by my original assessment. Malfoy is full of shit.

It kind of hurt that he couldn't tell me something honest, even for a second, even when he got to choose what he told me. He could have told me that he secretly still collected chocolate frog cards even though it's usually something only first years do and I would have been happy. But no, he has to make up some nonsense about a dead pet dragon?

"Malfoy, that's so sad," I whispered playing along; I didn't want to call him on it: we'd only end up fighting about it. I couldn't look at him. I'd been truthful with him nearly this whole time and he couldn't even … argh! He was so infuriating!

"It's life, Potter. We live until we don't anymore," he shrugged.

Yeah, trust the next generation of Death Eaters to have such a flippant attitude about the value of a life. We worked in silence for a little while longer, before he spoke again. "So Potter, top or bottom?" he asked me.

Oh, God. I'm blushing. I knew he was getting bolder with me after his little act in the bathroom the other day, but to bring up sex in the middle of class… that was a little too bold. My mind flicked briefly back to my earlier thoughts about Blaise Zabini and I suddenly felt kind of _hunted._

"Pardon?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

"Sex, Potter," he said frankly, as if he could somehow tell I was trying to dodge the subject and he didn't want to let me; this whole mind-reading thing needed to stop. "You got to ask me something personal, now it's my turn. Are you a top or a bottom?"

Like that's any of his business. He didn't even tell me the truth. "Wouldn't you like to know?" I replied. I could still feel my face burning as I wondered if one day it _might_ be his business – he certainly thought it would be; perhaps he was trying to see if we were compatible?

"I would, that was sort of the point of my question," he insisted.

"How about you, then?" I asked, determined to switch the focus of the conversation.

"Top, always," he answered without missing a beat. "Your turn."

I might still be a virgin – technically – but I did know I was 'versatile', as they say; I would find just as much pleasure in either position. "What if I'm a top, too?" I asked, trying to throw him off. If he thought he might have to bottom for me perhaps he wouldn't be quite so keen.

"Are you?" he asked. He looked sort of surprised; trust Malfoy to just make assumptions like that. He thinks he knows everything about me. If he did he'd know I like equality in my relationships, give and take: 50-50.

I rolled my eyes to show I wasn't impressed with his assumptions or his personal questions. Questions he expected answers to when he couldn't even honestly answer mine. Why should I reciprocate? "Well, I'm afraid you'll never find out, as I have a boyfriend, remember?" I said; even I'll admit I sounded kind of childish.

"I remember, but if I'm not mistaken you also had a boyfriend that day I pinned you in the bathroom and you were certainly welcoming it then," he replied smugly.

I felt my cheeks flush all over again. I didn't think he'd noticed. If he had I was sure he would have taken me, gotten what he wanted right then, but he hadn't.

I went for the usual tactic. Deny. Deny. Deny. "I think the operative word there is _pinned_, Malfoy," I said, trying to sound unfazed.

He just laughed at me. "I'm not daft, Potter. You enjoyed every minute of that," he said. "You're plenty strong enough to have refused me, but you just stood there like a limp doll waiting for me to take you as my own."

"I was not," I argued, suddenly angry that Malfoy was making me sound like a weak little fairy boy just begging for him to bend me over the desk.

"Are you sure about that?" he whispered into my ear. His breath on my earlobes combined with his deft fingertips which had – at some point - started caressing my thigh made me shiver. I couldn't believe he was molesting me in the middle of class. My eyes flicked over to where Snape stood at the front of the room, but he wasn't looking; I'm not sure if I was glad about that or not.

His fingers gripped my upper thigh tightly and his nails dug painfully into my flesh, dangerously close to my cock, which was only betraying me mutinously as it grew in size. I'd never known pain to feel so damn good, if his nails broke my skin I swear I might lose complete control. As it was I still had to nearly bite down on my tongue as I sharply inhaled and tried not to act on the various ways I imagined tearing through Malfoy's robes.

"Does Corner make you this hot?" he asked. He sounded sexy, but the mention of my boyfriend had me crashing harshly back to reality.

Just a tip Malfoy, if you're trying to seduce somebody else's lover _don't _remind them they're cheating: it's kind of counterproductive.

"Mike's a good person," I said, trying to remind myself as much as Malfoy.

"Clearly the same can't be said about me, but I think I have more to offer than you'll ever get from Corner," he answered confidently. His fingers still pushed painfully into my skin, but now it didn't feel half so good – I felt bad about Mike.

"Like?" I snapped at him. I knew I couldn't blame him entirely for this: he was being aggressive in his pursuing of me, but deep down I knew I hadn't discouraged him half as much as I should have. This was all on me, but I took some sort of sick pleasure in taking it out on him.

"I can challenge you in ways he never could. You and I are a matched set, Harry," he whispered passionately. "We're two sides to the same coin. Dark versus light, hot versus cold; our passion could burn brighter than any flame you've ever seen." His voice was on fire and had I not been drowning in ice-cold guilt right now, it would have set me alight instantly.

"I don't want a challenge," I replied. "I want someone to hold me and care for me and love me." That was true. I did want that. I wanted it more than I'd ever wanted it before simply because I knew it was something I could never have.

Over the last few days I had resigned myself to the fact I wouldn't survive my encounter with Voldemort for no other reason than the fact that I didn't want to; I had no reason to live beyond the fulfillment of my prophesized destiny. I would defeat him for my parents, for Sirius and for those that I still loved even if they no longer loved me, but I would not hope to survive it. I had nothing to live for anyway.

"What if I could provide that as well?" he asked, raising his eyebrows as though demonstrating the sincerity of his offer.

"You can't," I answered quietly. _No one can. _

"Are you so sure?" he asked, finally releasing his grip on my thigh and letting it move almost tenderly to my waist.

"Yes, I'm sure," I replied determinedly pulling way from his touch. "At most you and I can be friends, but that's all."

"That's not good enough," he said almost petulantly.

Oh, Malfoy, the spoiled rich boy until the end. "It's that or nothing," I told him seriously. _You can't have everything you want this time._

He smiled at me and touched my face a little, but I could see the anger in his eyes at being denied; I guess it's not a daily occurrence for young Lord Malfoy, Prince of Slytherin and all-round childish brat. If he could look outside of his own needs at the world around him, I might actually consider it. "If that's what you want," he said, actually looking hurt, which I must admit I found surprising.

We continued with the rest of our potion without exchanging any significant words other than 'pass this' or 'what direction do we stir'. When class finished Malfoy shot me a "see you later" and disappeared before I could respond.

Not that I planned on it, anyway.

-

Malfoy ignored me at lunch. I guessed he was still mad at me for rejecting his advances. I'm not a mean person and part of me did feel bad that I had upset him, but I felt better about being with Mike after saying no to Malfoy. I never liked playing both Ginny and Mike at the same time and I vowed never to do it again. Besides, I knew Malfoy would get over it once he found himself another conquest. At least I thought so, until dinnertime that evening when Malfoy watched me eat nearly every bite of my meal. If only Mike hadn't stared him down the whole time, I would have just found it irritating. As it was, it made me so uncomfortable that I kept glancing between the two of them and shifting in my seat.

Nothing good could come of that.

Breakfast the next morning was the same: more unpleasant staring contests between Malfoy and Mike while I looked on warily - just waiting for one of them to crack under the pressure. I think the teachers noticed too: they were keeping a close eye on the two of them. I actually think that was the only reason nobody drew their wands; I had mine next to my dinner plate in case I needed to intervene – although intervene how I didn't know at the time. Would I have told Malfoy to back off … or Mike?

Mike took it upon himself to one up Malfoy in a different manner, however, and as he got up from his seat and started walking towards me I knew what he wanted to do; he really did belong in Ravenclaw, my beautifully brilliant boyfriend.

"Hey, baby," he smiled at me when he reached my table. I'd already put my fork down and swallowed my last bite of eggs in anticipation of his kiss.

I grinned at him, trying not to laugh out loud at the rainbow of colours I imagined Malfoy's face turning right about now. "Hey," I replied as he pulled me up from my chair and into his arms. "You little devil," I purred. He just smiled and drew me into a gentle kiss.

I left my hands resting on Mike's waist since this kiss was about him letting Malfoy know I was already claimed. Normally I wasn't too keen on being _claimed_, like I was _owned_ by someone or _belonged _to someone other than myself, but in this instance I felt it was necessary. I knew Mike didn't actually think of me like that, but I was certain Malfoy did; if I wanted him to let up on the flirting I needed to speak his language. Of course, this could ruin everything and Malfoy may decide never to speak to me again, but I figured if the only way I could get close to Malfoy was by screwing him then I'd rather find another way to Voldemort.

Mike was very gentlemanly about our first public kiss: he didn't use his tongue or grab my arse or anything. He simply tenderly kissed my lips with his, over and over again, and it gave me chills. I don't know how long we stayed that way – it felt like forever and no time at all, all at once – but we broke apart hastily when I heard a banshee-like scream and then a clatter of a goblet hitting the stone floor.

I looked up in time to see a very red-faced looking Ginny storming violently from the Great Hall, her pumpkin juice splattered carelessly across the floor and her goblet rolling towards the Hufflepuff table. It was then that I noticed the rest of the students in the Great Hall – this display was meant only for Malfoy, but it seemed everybody stopped to watch. The entire Hall was silent and they were all looking at me; I felt my cheeks heat up and I knew I must be bright red. I buried my face into Mike's shoulder as he held me and whispered 'oh my god, oh my god' over and over into his robes.

Clearly, I didn't think this through well enough.

If we left together now it would look like we were running off to 'get a room' so to speak, so instead I quickly sat down and pulled Mike down next to me while I finished eating my breakfast. He stared at me worriedly the whole time like he hadn't really thought it through very well either and he was only now just starting to think about the scandal we had created with that kiss. I could see the Prophet headline now _Harry Potter shocks Hogwarts students with public GAY kiss! _

Great.

My only consolation was that Malfoy looked like he'd swallowed a lemon. His mouth was pursed tightly like he was trying to physically restrain any words from escaping. I didn't dare glance down the table at Ron after witnessing Ginny's reaction. I couldn't bear to see him look at me with even more hatred than he had for me already and didn't want to encourage any more nasty comments from him; my heart wouldn't cope.

Instead, I quietly finished my breakfast and grabbed Mike by the hand to lead him out of the Great Hall. We had Charms together today – the only class we shared – and I couldn't have been more grateful for his company.

-

Charms had been blissfully uneventful. Most people had stared at Mike and I sitting together and some had even whispered about us, but stares and whispers I can handle much better on a smaller scale. That terrifying moment in the Great Hall had just been a little too much for me.

_After _Charms, however, now _that _was different altogether!

Malfoy must have been hovering outside the Charms room waiting for me and, for some reason, Mike unknowingly played right into his hands when he left me alone so that he could make a detour to the boys' bathroom. I barely had time to blink before Malfoy slinked up beside me, still looking annoyed, but vastly calmer than before.

"What an _adorable _show you put on at breakfast," he cooed overdramatically. I knew he knew I was mortified about it and I guessed he was just rubbing it in some more.

"Thanks," I smiled, trying to keep him on his toes.

"Surely even _you _recognise a sarcastic tone when you hear it," he drawled, a superior sneer dominating his face; I knew it was his attempt to hide whatever disappointment and jealousy he might be feeling.

"Yes, I do," I said, still smiling. I hated that he was beginning to feel the need to comment on every aspect of my life.

To my surprise he smiled back at me and I took immense pleasure in removing that scowl from his face; it made him look ugly. "He's not good enough for you, Harry," he told me, actually sounding sincere. He swung his arm over my shoulders and tried to pull me closer to him. It still unnerved me, hearing him call me by my first name; I've yet to use his even to myself.

"And you are?" I asked incredulously, ducking out from under his grasp. I saw Mike coming out from the toilets and I knew he'd seen Malfoy hugging me – kind of – but he hung back.

"Perhaps," Malfoy smiled. "Don't you think it's worth finding out?" He still hadn't noticed Mike who was casually making his way over with his eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Honestly?" I said quickly, trying to say what I wanted before my boyfriend arrived. "I think we need to work on the friendship thing, before-" I cut off my sentence as Mike got within earshot of our conversation; I watched him walk over and Malfoy finally noticed him approaching.

"You need to learn to keep your hands to yourself, Malfoy," Mike snapped angrily.

"Where I keep my hands is my business, Corner, not yours," Malfoy retorted haughtily.

"It's _my_ business when you're keeping your hands on my _boyfriend_," Mike shot back.

I wondered if it always felt like this to be fought over by two gorgeous men or if it was just my own vanity, but I got a bit of a thrill out of watching these two bare their fangs over me. Although, on the other hand, I was a bit annoyed that nobody thought _I _should have a say in any of this.

"Oh, he doesn't mind, do you Harry?" Malfoy smirked and threw me a wink.

That was a cheap shot; I knew he was referring to the bathroom incident and that little grope he'd had in potions yesterday. I glanced around as we started to draw a crowd. I was going to need to break this up soon.

"Stay. Away. From. _My. _Boyfriend." Mike growled. This was not going well.

"How exactly are you going to stop me, Corner?" Malfoy teased flippantly; he knew exactly how to rile him up.

I knew it was time to throw myself into the mix when Mike drew his wand out of his robes and Malfoy quickly followed suit. It's not like I wasn't expecting it though so I was already poised to pounce on both of them when it happened. Exchanging words is one thing, but crossing wands is quite another.

"Whoa! Okay! That's enough!" I said firmly. I focused my coercion on Mike, I knew Malfoy wouldn't do anything unless he was 'provoked'; he liked to have an excuse to hide behind when a professor starting dishing out detentions. "Come on, Baby," I pleaded with Mike, stepping into him and placing my hands on his waist. I tried to lock his eyes with mine so he would stop focusing on Malfoy. "It's okay. Let's just get out of here, alright?"

He didn't respond to any of my pleading and he didn't even look at me like I wanted him to; I think we both knew once he did the fight was over. I would lead him away and he would follow. "Let's go, Baby," I cooed. "Just you and me okay?"

Finally he caved, dropping his gaze from Malfoy and locking eyes with me instead. I felt his body relax instantly into mine and he followed me willingly as I directed him through the gathered crowd and into the privacy of an unused, empty classroom. I locked the door behind us.

As calm as I was before, I was suddenly overwhelmed with a confusing mixture of emotions. I was flattered by the showdown that had just occurred over me, but I was furious that at least thirty students witnessed it and I was hurt that Mike trusted me so little around Malfoy that he felt the need to publicly mark me as his territory like a dog pissing on a tree. Although even _I_ wasn't entirely sure I could be trusted around Malfoy; but not trusting yourself and not being trusted by your boyfriend are two completely different things!

"What the hell was that?" I asked angrily.

"Nothing," Mike replied, dropping his gaze from mine in shame.

_Nothing? Was he there? That wasn't 'nothing'._

"Mike! You nearly took on Malfoy!" I scolded him.

"What? You think I couldn't beat him?" he asked me defensively.

"Of course you could," I sighed, but I wasn't sure if that was true or not. "But it's _Malfoy_! He would only fight dirty and you're too good for that!"

"So you _don't _think I could beat him?" he frowned, pouting like a child.

"I didn't say that!" I huffed. "What has gotten into you? I know you hate him but I thought you trusted me more than that! I can handle Malfoy; I don't need you making a scene!"

"_He_ was the one that got _me_ involved in this!" Mike snapped at me. "I didn't just take it upon myself to attack him: he started it!"

"What do you mean he started it?" I asked carefully. Obviously something else has happened that I hadn't been told about.

"That Slytherin arsehole told me he _wanted_ you," Mike replied, his voice cracking with emotion. "He said he was going to get you because 'Malfoy's always get what they want'. Fucking bastard, as if he thinks he can steal you away from me!"

"As if _either _of you think the decision of who _I'm _with has nothing to do with what _I _want!" I snapped, instantly furious about being referred to like an object. Seriously! I should just give them _both _the flick!

"I didn't mean it like that," Mike sighed shamefully. He reached out for me, but I was too annoyed with him and I stepped out of his grasp.

"It sure sounds like it!" I continued my rant, ignoring his unspoken apology. "I tell you what, why don't you and Malfoy set up a game of Chess, I'll be the prize and whoever wins gets to fuck my brains out. How does that sound?"

"Harry," he whined, trying to reason with me.

"No, really!" I snapped. "I mean it. Let's do it. Come on; let's go see if Malfoy is up for it," I growled as I started stalking back towards the door. I wasn't really going to leave and Mike knew that, but he played along with me anyway.

"Okay! I'm sorry!" he pleaded, rushing up and grabbing me from behind; he wrapped both his arms tightly around my middle and pressed his chest up against my back. "I get it. I'm an arsehole," he said, almost purring into my ear.

My resolve melted instantly and I turned in his arms so that I could face him. "You're not an arsehole," I assured him with a light peck on his nose. "You just need to trust me. Malfoy could tell you he was going to sprout wings and turn into garden fairy, but that doesn't mean it's true."

Mike chuckled. I imagine he was picturing the same thing as I was; Malfoy the Garden Fairy. "I'm sorry," he whispered to me. "I know Malfoy's a wanker, but he's fucking hot and when he told me he wanted you I just lost it. I couldn't bear losing you, and I mean who wouldn't pick Malfoy over me?"

My heart was thumping in my chest. For I second there I thought Mike was going to tell me he loved me. I was ashamed of myself when I found that I was inwardly relieved that he didn't say it; I knew I couldn't return his feelings yet.

"Arrogance is _not_ hot," I quipped.

"What if you shoved a sock in his mouth while you fucked him?" he teased me.

"Shut up, you," I said, lightly telling him off. The idea of fucking Malfoy while he moaned through a sock was actually making me hard and I felt guilty all over again. "Come here," I demanded. "As annoyed as I was by your little outburst, seeing you all protective like that kind of made me horny." That was actually true, but it went both ways, I was equally turned on by the two of them battling it out for my affections. Who knew I was such a damsel?

"Did it now?" he purred.

"Why don't you dig through my robes and find out just how much?" I replied seductively.

My cock was thickening rapidly at the memory of that fight, the image of Malfoy gasping into one of my Gryffindor socks and the lust filled look Mike was giving me now. For a moment, I thought of the ultimate possibility – if those two didn't hate each other so much – me, Mike, Malfoy and king-sized bed. And that was it, no more stimulation required.

"You _are_ hard!" Mike groaned as he squeezed my cock through my robes. I don't think I'd ever been so hard in my life.

Mike dropped to his knees and dug through my robes furiously, eventually claiming his prize and taking me into the warm folds of his mouth. I groaned in pleasure as his tongue soothed the aching I felt, but ignited the fire that sent tingles of ecstasy through my limbs. I was naturally vocal when it came to sex, even when I was going solo, but I had learned quickly to bite my tongue for fear of being caught. Not this time though: we were alone in this room and nobody usually ventured this far down the corridor since these classrooms weren't used anymore. I threw my head back as he worked on me, sending shivers up and down my spine and I moaned freely into the dusty air.

I leaned back up against a heavy wooden table, supporting myself with my left hand and using my right to guide Mike's mouth up and down the length of my cock. God, he felt even more incredible than usual and he had always been good at this. I wasn't going to last very long.

I'm not sure why I did it, but as I felt the pressure building in my groin, as I felt myself reaching my climax, I looked up at the doorway. There was a glass panel set into the door, but it was blurred so you couldn't see exactly through it, but enough to know what was going on.

I saw someone standing on the other side of the door watching me; it was Malfoy, I recognized his trademark blonde hair. He was gone as soon as he saw me looking at him, but it was that image that set me off. Just knowing Malfoy was watching me get a blowjob drove me crazy. I screamed my pleasure into the still air of the classroom and hoped Malfoy could hear me as he stormed off.

Author's Note: I haven't given her anything this evil yet! I'll have to up the anty. My poor Draco forced to watch Harry get off with another boy. Whatever shall I do?!


	7. Draco: Something Learned

Author's Note: Many thanks to Robert who looked over this chapter for me. Let's see what I'm able to do with that tricky cliffie Laurel left me with last time!!

Chapter 7- Draco – Something Learned, Something Remembered

After the day's classes finished I got back to my dorm to find Snape lurking at my bedside. It was odd behavior for the Potions Master and I eyed him curiously at which he simply sneered at me. "I have another letter from your father," he reported and extended a carefully rolled parchment to me.

"Why didn't you put it in the usual place?" I asked, unsure what else the Potions Master had been doing while alone in my bedchambers.

"He asked that I bring it to you directly," the dark-haired man answered simply; I still found his presence in my bedroom disconcerting for some reason.

I took the letter from his outstretched palm, broke the seal and scanned it quickly before waving my professor away. The fact that Snape huffed at the easy dismissal and muttered something under his breath was not lost on me, but I was too distracted by the contents of the note to worry much about the Head of House's displeasure.

Finally alone, I read it again; making sure that I hadn't missed some hidden nuance in the short and meticulous script.

_Draco,_

_Treat the item as a reminder of who you are. Never forget._

_I am glad to know that the package arrived safely and that you've taken such a unique interest in the heirloom. To be frank, I cannot answer your question with any authority, as I have never tried to relocate more than myself to the Manor with it. I might assume that it would work as any other transportation spell allowing you to bring with you anything you touch, but a Malfoy never assumes when it comes to magic. _

_More importantly however, I must ask why the question arose to begin with._

_Lucius_

I carefully folded and stored the letter in my trunk before pacing the expanse of my shared bedchamber. The words were specifically constructed -as always- but his response still baffled me. It was possibly the first time I had ever gotten an 'I don't know' out of my father. Clearly, he would never actually admit such a thing, but that was the essence of his note.

Moreover, he wanted to know why I had asked in the first place. I knew when I wrote the letter that his curiosity was a distinct possibility, but I wasn't sure how much information I wished to turn over to him yet -knowing that Voldemort could glean it from his mind at any time. My father would never volunteer me as bait or lay me at the hands of the Dark Lord's bidding, but if cornered, my father would always choose his own safety over mine. It was different with my mother, but my relationship with her was different.

She was the one who always cared for me when I was ill, the one who defended me to my father; the one who comforted me when the pet dragon I had told Harry about died. If there was anyone that I loved in this world, it was my mother.

Still, she could do little to stay the hand of Voldemort if he was keen on making an example of me if, say, I failed to reel Potter in after making a bid for him; it was a scenario that was seeming more and more likely the closer he got to Corner. I really had to do something about that, but for the moment I had to worry about what reply to give my father.

_Father,_

_I was merely letting my curiosity run away with me and ask your forgiveness for wasting your time. Give mother my love._

Draco

It was short -and Lucius would know right away that I was lying- but it was better to have him miffed at me for not confessing the whole truth than to have the Dark Lord leveling his wand at my chest. Father would see that in the end –at least, I hoped he would.

Shaking my head, I made my way to dinner. I had to stop thinking about this endeavor so negatively. I _would_ win, I would take Potter and then I'd turn his delicate arse over to Voldemort and take my proper place at his side. It was nearly a given. Corner provided an obstacle, but I would leap over it. Potter proved resistant, but not as resistant as I had originally expected; with a little more diligence and some well-timed wooing, the boy would be falling at my feet.

It was just a matter of time.

It was with confidence that I watched Potter eat his meal that evening, with a cool level head that I left the Great Hall that night -ignoring Corner's narrowed gaze- and with vast contentment that I fell asleep later that night in my dorm, dreaming of my prize.

Although, the next morning, it would all unravel around me.

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Watching Harry Potter shift uncomfortably under my gaze was fast becoming my new favorite pastime. It wasn't lost on me, however, that little Mikey Corner was battling with me for dominance over Potter's attentions. The boy –as clever as Ravenclaws were rumored to be- didn't seem to grasp that I had far more experience capturing people's interest than he ever would. Still, it irked me that this only mildly good-looking and rather boring Ravenclaw boy was even in the running along side someone like me, but then Potter had always had odd priorities.

Clearly, Potter must see something in the twat; but what, I had no clue. Maybe the fearless Gryffindor had dropped his pants for the clever little raven and his attachment ran deeper than 'he's a good person' or whatever drabble Harry had spewed about him in Potions the day before.

But good person or not, the bold Ravenclaw seemed to be fed up with our staring contest and was suddenly striding purposefully toward Harry -upping the stakes, as it were. It wasn't his intentions that bothered me, though his intentions were fairly clear to not only myself but the surrounding students; hundreds of them that all turned to watch the eminent public display of affection. No, what bothered me was not that Corner was planning to kiss Harry in the midst of all these watchful eyes – something that even I was smart enough not to attempt with someone as reclusive as Harry -it was the look on Harry's face that unsettled me.

I could have easily pawned it off as a gesture to make me jealous or even to ward me off if not for the look of fairytale romance in Potter's vivid green eyes, which were now in no way directed toward me.

Now, based on what I _do_ know about the Great Harry Potter, he doesn't enjoy public displays of anything, let alone something that would only serve to further ostracize him from his old friends. Yet there he was; beaming at Corner, his gaze was nothing but welcoming and eager. It was then that I first realized that I could potentially lose; that perhaps their bond was not as tenuous as I had assumed. Clearly, my father's trait of not making assumptions was not something I had inherited, but maybe he had to learn through trial and error as well.

Time seemed frozen, as did my guts as Harry drew the Ravenclaw into a delicate kiss. I don't say delicate meaning something chaste, but far more tender than the way I had pictured kissing Potter, which would be unrestrained and fiercely passionate befitting such an all-consuming pair as we are.

The kiss seemed to go on forever and while most of me wanted to leap across the table and hex Corner into oblivion, I took a deep breath and waited for it to finish and wait for the other inevitable shoe to drop.

And it did.

Just as quickly as Harry's smile formed, it dropped into a frown as he realized what I had been aware of all along. There was more of an audience than just myself present. A shriek and a shatter ushered in the next level of chaos as the she-weasel spied the pair snogging in plain view, causing my eyes to immediately dart to her brother's furious red face. Next to him, Granger looked down at the floor, appearing to be mortified as if they had stripped each other naked and shagged right there between the butter and the croissants.

Corner seemed momentarily speechless and Harry just buried his face into Corner's shoulder; I could no longer see which emotions coursed across his overly expressive face, though I probably should have been more concerned with keeping a tight lock on my normally stony façade. It would take far too much energy to both refrain from murdering Corner _and_ school my face into a careful mask of indifference. As it was, I felt as though I'd been slapped and it truly injured me, but I also felt a twinge of pity toward Harry, who surprised me by pulling the Ravenclaw back down to sit with him instead of bolting from the prying stares all around him.

My solitary gaze probably seemed insignificant compared to the multitude of eyes on him, yet those green orbs still sought me out as if to taunt me. They had gained their tiny victory, but at what cost?

------------------------------------------------------------------

I cracked my knuckles, a habit my mother had often tried to break, while I waited just outside the Charms classroom for Potter to emerge. I had two back-to-back free periods so I was left to pace the corridor and wait for the telltale sign of students being released from tedious swish and flick activities.

As predicted, Harry emerged with his Ravenclaw in tow, his shoulders were a little more slumped than usual but otherwise looking no worse for wear. Luck seemed to be on my side, because the Corner boy left Potter right off and headed toward the bathroom, giving me the perfect opportunity to swoop in.

"What an _adorable _show you put on at breakfast," I remarked, my stomach still churning as I thought of Harry under that boy's spell.

"Thanks," was his only reply.

I rolled my eyes and -though Potter was trying to lose me with his pace- I easily kept up.

"Surely even _you _recognize a sarcastic tone when you hear it," I offered with a sneer; still the infuriating Gryffindor wouldn't bite.

His puppy love grin was stuck in place and it made me ill. "Yes, I do."

Well two could play at that game. If Potter wanted this romantically sappy brand of Malfoy, then that was what I would provide him with. I smiled back at him and noticed his own grin faded a little around the edges but he didn't say anything else; just blinked up at me.

"He's not good enough for you, Harry," I told him honestly while throwing my arm over his shoulder as I had with Corner before; this time, however, I felt a surge of electricity course through me at the simple touch.

"And you are?" he countered, looking as if he might laugh from the audacity of it and dodged my arm easily –just as Corner had been unable to do and proving yet again what a fine match the Gryffindor was for me.

I was good for him in the way that I would fill him full of ecstasy before watching him die at the hand of his enemy, but no, I was no good to anyone but myself. "Perhaps," I offered instead. "Don't you think it's worth finding out?" The last part I meant, because I knew he and I together would be brilliant fireworks; I could feel it every time I looked into those piercing green eyes. He was the kind of person I could truly lose myself with.

His voice became rushed then, and his eyes shifted from my face to a place just behind me. Part of me wanted to turn around, but Harry's emerald gaze held me captive. "Honestly? I think we need to work on the friendship thing, before-" he began, but was promptly cut off when I noticed we had a stalker.

"You need to learn to keep your hands to yourself, Malfoy," Corner told me with narrowed eyes.

"Where I keep my hands is my business, Corner, not yours," I replied. I didn't care one bit for this insignificant boy, but so long as he held Harry's attention it would be difficult to make him go missing.

"It's _my_ business when you're keeping your hands on my _boyfriend_," he countered, but I simply rolled my eyes.

With a wink and a smirk I sidled up closer to Harry. "Oh, he doesn't mind, do you Harry?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at me and stepped away and Corner seemed stupid enough to press the issue. "Stay. Away. From. _My. _Boyfriend," the boy growled and it was all I could do not to hex him on the spot. I did notice the growing crowd however, and preferred not to take the boy down so publicly. It was easier to lie when there weren't so many witnesses.

"How exactly are you going to stop me, Corner?" I asked, leaning in teasingly.

The ignorant Ravenclaw drew his wand and within seconds mine was out, pointing at the offending Ravenclaw's chest as the personal wards on my ring hummed lightly in my ears –a constant reminder of how much better suited I was for Harry than Corner. However before either of us could utter a syllable, Potter got in my way. Instead of warning me off, however, he went straight to _Corner_. The near-rejection almost cause me to gasp from the audacity of it all.

"Whoa! Okay! That's enough!" he shouted as he stepped into my line of sight and slinked in close to the Ravenclaw.

The next exchange was too soft for me to hear as he coddled his boyfriend into lowering his wand before they walked away together toward the end of the corridor.

They just left.

No words, no threats, nothing; they simply walked away hand-in-hand. The dismissal infuriated me but I saw which room they disappeared to and, when the crowd began to realize that there would be no duel and went on their own ways, I followed Harry and Corner.

I could vaguely see them through a frosted glass window, no details really but I could make out both boys clearly enough to piece together what was happening inside. I felt like a predator out there stalking Harry; as if he were already mine, and it was _me_ who needed to protect him from Corner and not the other way around. It was silly I knew, but I wanted Harry, _needed_ him for myself, and I couldn't let that arsehat Ravenclaw get in my way.

At first they appeared to be arguing, which cheered me immensely, and though I couldn't hear the words Harry shouted, I could hear the volume. Although, far too quickly for my liking, the tables turned and -soon enough- there was pleading and hugging and then even kissing. I barely kept myself from vomiting when Corner reached for Potter's trouser clasp; I think a little might have made its way to my mouth unbidden, regardless.

A second later the Ravenclaw fell to his knees and blocked my sight of him, which was probably for the best when Harry's head lolled back giving me a clear view of his flushed cheeks and parted lips as he groaned with pleasure from Corner's ministrations. It was both the sexiest and foulest thing I had ever seen as I watched Potter guide his boyfriend using a fist of his hair.

The sounds from inside were growing louder. I was close to stepping away, unable to watch Potter orgasm at another man's touch, when his hooded eyes looked straight at me; my feet froze in place for an instant before carrying me quickly away as fast as humanly possible.

I could hear the scream of Potter's climax echo down the hall, though it probably wasn't all that loud. To me, however, it was a maelstrom that refused to cease and the clamor of my footsteps or even the thud of my heartbeat refused to drown it out. I knew it was irrational, but I felt betrayed. I'd made my intentions clear and -at every turn- Potter was batting me aside like an unwanted stray. My pace quickened as I made my way down to the Slytherin dorms. My hands refused to stop making fists at my side. It wasn't until Pansy saw me enter and gasped that I realized how frazzled I must appear; looking down, it dawned on me that I hadn't even bothered to put my wand away after my confrontation with Corner.

With a deep shuddering breath I locked myself away in the curtained enclosure of my bed and sank into the expanse of pillows offered there. My head throbbed, my throat begged to scream a long guttural cry and my palms bled slightly from little half-moon cuts put there by my own fingernails. I closed my eyes and begrudgingly replayed all of it, and the conclusion I came to was astounding.

I was wrong.

Not just a little wrong either, but _completely _wrong. In the midst of everything, Potter had told me he wanted to be friends, just as he had before in Potions, but I hadn't been listening; not really. I went over and over our previous interactions in my mind, trying to find the moment I had slipped up and apparently handed Harry over to Corner on a silver platter. It wasn't until I closely examined our clipped conversation before my near-duel with Corner that the solution hit me. What I failed to realize, and wondered if Potter even knew he had said it, but his exact words were 'friends _before_'. Corner cut him off before he was able to finish, but 'before' had to mean something -something more than friends. It also meant he wasn't going to stop at just being friends with me, or at least part of him didn't want to. I was certain of it.

My body trembled with the revelation of what I would have to do to win him once and for all, but a subtle smirk curled my lips as I also realized that I had learned one valuable piece of information, if nothing else.

Harry Potter was a screamer.

-----------------------------------------------

I was careful -more than careful; I was like a ninja in the night- when it came to my next steps in my mission to take down Potter.

Emotions were easy for me. I had been groomed from an early age to take them out, jar them up and lock them away -replacing them only with indifference. The enemy only knew how to hurt you if you told them, and I had been screaming my jealousy over Potter through a megaphone, which in turn gave him power over me. It was time to come to grips with the fact that I felt more than a mild attraction to the boy and that the only thing left for it was to lock the emotion away with the others. The affection itself I was allowed to keep –it would only help with the sincerity that would win me Potter- but the jealousy that served as a byproduct of the affection would have to go.

I thought that I had already dealt with jealousy, even with a jealousy of Potter, but I hadn't. No, envy had come in disguised as jealousy at early age and tricked me into thinking I was ready for the emotion's murderous older sibling. All this time I had assumed it was jealousy that made me hate Potter for all his squandered fame and fortune, but I was mistaken.

As I made my way to Potions later that week, I made certain that the horrid feeling was tucked safely away and wouldn't bother me; as Potter came in and took his seat beside me I felt calm and collected –apparently I was the only one.

"We need to talk!" he demanded, his voice a sharp hiss that was clearly meant to sting.

"What about?" I asked distractedly as I read over last week's notes. I wouldn't play into his anger.

Potter simply narrowed his gaze at me and glared balefully. "Don't pretend you don't know. I saw you!"

"You'll have to be more specific than that, Harry. We see a lot of each other," I told him. Clearly I knew what he was talking about –I hadn't been able to think of anything else since- but I wanted to hear him _say_ it.

"You want specific? Fine, how about two days ago at about four in the afternoon in an empty corridor by the Charms classroom, is that specific enough for you?" he asked, not playing my game either. It mattered very little though; I would pounce on him another time.

"Ah," I sighed, as if it all came rushing back to me. "You mean that time I saw you get a blowjob from Corner?" I asked sweetly. "What about it?"

Harry winced and his crimson blush was simply adorable, but he otherwise maintained his composure. "You were watching me," he began, but I cut him off with a laugh.

"If that's the only way you can make him shut up, more power to you," I teased, but Potter was not amused.

His glare became malevolent and he practically growled his next words. "What the hell were you doing there?"

"You'd just run off with a guy who was clearly unstable. What would a friend do if not check to make sure you were okay?" I asked, which was partly true at least. I would have murdered Corner if he injured even a hair on Potter's ebony head, if he'd taken his anger out on Harry instead of me. Harry was mine whether he knew it yet or not, but it was a moot point as I didn't really think that the Ravenclaw twat had it in him to hurt Potter.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Really? You expect me to believe that?"

I merely shrugged and went back to lining up our potions ingredients. "Think what you like, Harry, but you told me you only wanted to be friends, so I'm backing off. Clearly Corner is the winner of your heart; why should I keep after you?"

"Suddenly, it was my heart you were after?" he scoffed, and I feigned an injured expression but kept silent. "I'm serious, Malfoy," Harry persisted when I hadn't replied. "I think you've made it clear that you only want to fuck me."

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly before giving him the full weight of my gaze. I let him see how disappointed I was -and I actually was, though not for the reasons he probably suspected. It all looked the same in the end though, and as I took the jar of rejection and hopelessness off the shelf in my mind and released them for Potter to see in my eyes, I knew it would look the same as if I felt those emotions for real. No, my rejection was because Potter had in effect chosen Corner over me, but the game wasn't over and it was only a battle the Ravenclaw had won, not the war. But my true disappointment stemmed from the fact that the game would take a lot more time, and that I couldn't rush into bedding Potter, because Potter refused to be rushed into anything.

"You've grown on me, Potter," I admitted truthfully. "I thought at first you might be a fun conquest, or even a heated fling, but I realize now that you're more than that, and you deserve more than that. If Corner makes you happy than that's all I could ever ask for, in the meantime I'll take second place as your friend… if the offer is still out there…" I whispered, looking bashful. It was a ridiculous look on any Malfoy, and one that Potter didn't seem to understand based on his softened scrutiny. I could tell he was still suspicious, but I wouldn't have him any other way. How much more beautiful it would be when I took him, broke him and gave him over to Voldemort if the entire time Potter truly knew better than to get involved with me in the first place.

"It is –the offer, I mean," he stammered, that lovely blush tinting his face once more and I wanted so badly to lean in and kiss him right then in front of the entire class, but that would only serve to infuriate the brunette. Besides, it would win me no points in the friends category, so I refrained.

I let the conversation move into awkward silence before I gestured to the cauldron on the table. "Shall we get to work then?"

Harry nodded meekly, his brow still set in a confused frown and his eyes never leaving my face for very long. We worked that way, side-by-side and in relative silence until Snape dismissed us. I gathered my things, not looking at Harry even though I could feel his green gaze boring into my back, and I took a step toward the exit before glancing back at Harry over my shoulder. "Lunch?" I asked, nodding toward the door.

"Er…" he hesitated and I shook my head and frowned.

"Right. Corner wouldn't take too kindly to that I'm sure," I muttered and shrugged, letting him see how disappointed I was over that fact. "Friends in secret then I suppose," I offered ruefully and Harry said nothing. "See you later then."

It looked as though something was fighting its way up Potter's throat, as if he wanted to say something of significance; perhaps to tell me to come back, or maybe just to call me a liar, but I didn't wait for whatever it was. I kept my pace for the door, never looking back and letting Potter watch me leave.

I skipped lunch, as I had been doing since the voyeur incident, instead choosing to eat by the lake. Things were easier out there –peaceful- and I didn't have to avoid the menacing glares given by Corner or have to chance the sight of another public kiss no matter how unlikely that might be.

I thought things had gone well in Potions, but I couldn't be certain –not yet, at least.

On the horizon I spotted a graceful bird coming toward me. It was a flash of brilliant white and I recognized it immediately as Potter's. I kept watching, assuming it was headed for the Owlery, or even the Great Hall for a delivery, but no, the bird headed straight for me and I knew the small sad tantrum in Potions had done it's part. I let the bird land on my shoulder, wincing slightly from the dig of its claws and took the small scroll she offered me.

Her feathers ruffled slightly at my touch and she cooed warmly in my ear as I stroked her snow-white plumes. She was a peaceful bird, sage and haughty, which I imagined complimented Harry's rashness quite well. I waited until she took off before I unfolded the note and smiled at the brief content of it.

_Malfoy_

_Meet me tonight. I'll find you._

HJP

Curious. The boy always surprised me. I was expecting a veiled apology or a promise to be nice in the future, but this was even better than my loftiest expectations… or was it? Perhaps I was being reeled into some Gryffindor scheme, set up to be ambushed by him and Corner, or worse –because I could easily hold my own against those two, maybe Potter simply wanted to tell me that even being friends was out of the question. He was certainly noble enough to think he would need to do that sort of thing in person, and he had been particularly quiet in Potions. Maybe I backed off too quickly; maybe he was more suspicious of my tantrum than I had suspected and it spooked him away?

I held my head to stop the constant questions from barraging me any further. Why was I doing this to myself? Malfoy's don't second-guess themselves this way, and certainly not over the heart of a Gryffindor brat. With a sigh I stood up, resolving myself to the inevitable. Whatever Potter had planned for tonight I couldn't change, but I certainly wouldn't let the boy get inside my head with his own brand of games –intentional or no. I didn't need to sit here and wallow in the unknown. No, I would meet Potter on my terms and whether he told me to sod off or not would be up to him, but I wouldn't let it take me down. My father's words in the note he sent me came unbidden to my mind and I looked down at the heirloom that graced my finger. '_Treat it as a reminder of who you are. Never forget.' _And I wouldn't: Blood before Flesh, Duty before Love, Obedience before Thought, Strength before Weakness and the Wisdom to conquer all others, born of greatness and pure of blood.

I was a Malfoy.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note: So Harry, what do you have in mind for out dear Draco?


	8. Harry: Who To Trust

Author's Note: At this point Laurel and I are beta'ing each other's chapters while Robert is away with far too much work to handle. Let's see what Harry decides to do with my note....

Chapter 8 – Harry – Who to trust?

I've held myself together for so long now and I don't even know why, it just seemed to be important that I was 'okay'. The truth is I'm not. I'm so exhausted that I can't lie to myself anymore, but admitting that I'm not coping is even harder to do. Trouble is it's getting nearly impossible to ignore, especially now that I'm almost certain I'm going nuts. Part of me wonders whether insanity was an inevitable conclusion for me; anyone who plans to take on a psycho like Voldemort has to be a little insane, right? I've lost everything I've ever loved, and this time I can't blame it all on Voldemort, this was my doing. Sometimes I think I deserve the consequences of my mistakes, but sometimes I wonder if I ever really had what I thought I did. And if never really had it, could I ever really lose it? I was led to believe that true friendship transcends all things, _all_ mistakes. I wonder if I ever really had 'true friends' in Hermione and Ron, or if the concept of lifelong friends who stand by you through all of life's trials had been idealised to the point of fantasy.

I've been thinking about Malfoy a lot lately as well, too much I think, but I haven't yet been able to push him from my mind. It's infuriating the way he's forced himself into my life, but I'm not sure if I'm more angry at him for his presence, or if I'm angry with myself for how I'm reacting to him. I lose my mind when he's around. I can't believe how stupid I was letting Mike kiss me in front of the whole school, it was as though everyone else had faded into the distance and in that big hall there was only Malfoy watching me. Of course the reality of the situation was much different and now Ron won't even stay in the same room as me if he can help it.

Then there's the less public way I've been reacting to Malfoy; yesterday I wanked over him, picturing his face as he watched Mike suck me off and imagining it was his mouth and not Mike's. But that's not the most worrying reaction, what scares me most is that I'm still a virgin. As a teenage boy, my main goal in life is to have lots of sex – a slight exaggeration considering the Voldemort situation, but you get the idea – so why is my cock and my arse still painfully chaste? Mike has been more than keen, annoyingly so, and I've been finding excuses to delay our inevitable fucking. Before this Ginny fiasco I was all for it and now I'm not so sure, it's only a matter of time before he manages to fill my 'in a proper and private bedroom' requirement and I'll have to give in. I'm not sure what's wrong with me, a few short weeks ago I was happy to lose my virginity thrusting up against Greenhouse Three! The only reason I can think of that makes even a small amount of sense is Malfoy, although I still don't know why. I don't understand why I'm so reluctant to have my first time with Mike? Am I saving myself for Malfoy? No. That's ridiculous, isn't it? Sure, he's been the focus of my thoughts for the last few days. Sure, just one look from him feels like someone's lit a match inside my chest, but that's all explainable - Malfoy can make anyone feel like that. He's the classic bad boy; he could melt the heart of the purest souls – hell, _especially _the pure ones! – But that doesn't mean I want him to be my boyfriend. Mike is a much safer option and I don't get enough 'safe' in my life, I better grab it while I can, right?

I needed to find a way to stop thinking about Malfoy and the note I currently held in my hand was probably a good distraction to start me off. I'd received it by owl late last night, obviously Remus didn't want me to receive it publicly at breakfast, and I'd woken Ron in the process of retrieving it. He almost looked like he was going to ask me who it was from and my heart seized with hope, but again I was disappointed; he firmly shut his mouth and disappeared back into his bed. That one moment clearly told me that if he ever wanted my friendship again he could have it. He could have whatever he wanted from me because he would forever be my brother, whether he ever uttered another word to me or not; perhaps true friendship did exist after all, but it wasn't always mutual. I was so angry with myself I almost screamed my frustrations into the still night air of my dorm room. Why was I so controlled by my heart? Did my head have _no_ say? Nothing I thought made any sense to me anymore.

My life – my sanity – felt like sand slipping through my fingers and I was powerless to stop it.

Remus had obviously heard about my current exiled position in Gryffindor – hell, in _Hogwarts_ – and his note requested that I meet him at the Shrieking Shack at midnight tonight. I assumed he wanted me to explain what happened, but I didn't know what he would say about it. I didn't even know what _I_ would say about it. I made my way down to the Whomping Willow underneath my invisibility cloak to the start of the secret passage; I found the long tree branch without too much trouble and easily pushed in the knot to freeze the tree. I slinked underneath it and slipped easily into the passageway leading to the shack.

I was filthy by the time I entered the quiet house, freeing myself from the confines of the tunnel; cobwebs covered my clothes and my hands were smudged with dirt -my face too, probably.

"Thanks for coming, Harry," Remus said as he stepped out of the darkness. "It's been a long time since we were here. Sirius was with us then," he reminisced. My heart ached as I thought of my late Godfather. "How are you?"

I just shrugged in response. I didn't want to lie to him, but I hadn't yet said out loud that I wasn't okay. When Mike asked I always said 'fine' even though he knew I wasn't, I could tell he knew from the pitying looks he gave me.

"I heard what happened with Ginny," he continued when I didn't say anything, I was still lost in thoughts of Sirius and the last time I was here, plunging after an apparent mass murderer to save my once-best friend. "How did that happen?" he asked sternly, almost like a parent.

I tensed instantly. "I'm a worthless cheater, didn't you hear? Too full of myself and my own fame to care who else I hurt," I spat, paraphrasing the insults and accusations of my housemates.

"Is that what they told you?" he growled angrily, but his displeasure was not directed at me, rather at my absent housemates. "I'm not here to lecture you," he said soothingly and it was strangely effective on my turbulent mood. "I'm here to help in any way I can, this must be very difficult for you. I – I'm surprised at Hermione and Ron," he finished tentatively.

My shoulders slumped. I'd been suppressing so much hurt and anger for so long it was only natural that it caught up with me. I was angry and scared and alone, I had no one to turn to and no one to lean on now that it was all becoming too much. Remus had come just when I needed him to and it was like his words released me and I fell into him crying at the unfairness of it all. I explained what had happened with Mike and how I'd ended up in a relationship with Ginny in the first place – I don't even remember a specific moment when I agreed to the relationship, she just starting going around telling people I was her boyfriend and I stupidly didn't correct her. I told him how I was treated now and how Hermione and Ron had abandoned me without even trying to work it out.

"You need to force them," he told me. "I know this hurts and they've been very immature and very unfair to you – perhaps they too bought into the idea of you being the hero and forgot that you were just as human as the rest of us – but I need you to consider trying to win them back."

"Win them back? How? Why?" I gaped at his suggestion, I was truly shocked. I wanted them back more than anything, but what more did he think I could do? And even if I had them back there was no telling what kind of friendship we would have, certainly not one resembling what we had before. Besides, _they _left _me_; they walked away, wasn't it up to them to return if they wanted our friendship back?

"Did you beg?" he answered with a half-laugh like he was sort of kidding but not really.

"No, I did not _beg_," I snapped. I would not sacrifice what _little _dignity I have left by begging. "If someone doesn't want you, you can't force them!" Someone really needed to tell Malfoy that.

"I understand that, but Harry, you _need_ them," he insisted, almost pleading with me. "For this fight if nothing else; if you do this alone you won't survive it."

"I _don't _need them," I argued. "I can do this without them, I already have a plan!"

"Let's hear it then," he challenged folding his arms in front of his chest.

"Well, I – I, um," I stuttered.

"Yes?"

"Inside information," I blurted out. "I have a source; he can get me information and access." Not that Malfoy _knew _he was my source, or had agreed to provide me with those things, but he would, eventually, even if I had to chain him to the ceiling by his ankles to do it.

"And what? You just stroll in with your source and _kill _You-Know-Who?" Remus asked sceptically. "Who is this source anyway? A Death Eater? How do you know he's legitimate? How can you be sure he's not double crossing you?"

"I just know okay!" I retorted. It was lame, I know, but I didn't have any answers to those questions and Remus' logic was infuriating me.

"You need to be careful, Harry," he warned me. "This is your life you're gambling with, this could turn out badly for you."

"Who cares if it did anyway," I snapped, trying to swallow back the lump that formed in my throat as I realised I meant what I was saying more than I should. "What do I have left to live for?"

Remus winced at my words. "So much more than you know," he whispered to me softly as fresh tears wet my cheeks. "I've been where you are and it's a truly scary place to be. To lose hope, to lose sight of your future, there's no darker place. But you _must _be strong, draw your light from anywhere you can, do all the things that make you happy, and if you need help _ask for it!_"

I just nodded weakly. When I thought of the people in my life strong enough to support me through something like that I was surprised to find Malfoy's face shining brighter in my mind than any other. He was strong enough to support me, definitely; he _could _do it if I needed him to, but _would _he do it?

"Your friends still love you no matter how angry they are right now," Remus whispered. "You can't just turn love off, its not a switch in your heart, I'm sure you've tried to turn off your feelings for them many times since they've hurt you, right?" I didn't answer, I didn't move, but he was right I had, and despite my best efforts I still loved them. "It would be the same for them, they are hurting without you too and if you need them they will help you, I know they would."

It frightened me the way Remus was looking at me, I could almost see myself reflected in his eyes and I didn't like what I saw. I was pathetic. I knew exactly what he was saying to me though; if I felt like hurting myself I was to go to my old friends, he was sure they would help. I wish I were as confident as he was about that fact.

I left Remus nearly three hours after I'd first entered the shack and I felt numb with fatigue and drained of emotion. Was it really that bad that he was worried I'd hurt myself? Maybe even kill myself? I didn't know. I certainly wouldn't _mind _dying, but I was sure I wasn't actively seeking it. I hadn't reached that point just yet, but Remus was right, with the current state of my life, it was something I should monitor.

My other worry was Malfoy. On top of the worries I held over my attraction to him, I was also beginning to wonder about his feelings for me. They did seem a little out of the blue, especially when he moved so quickly from open hatred to a wish to bed me. That's probably all it was though, just a shallow desire to fuck me and be done with it.

I worried, too, about my lack of a set plan. Sure I had an overall idea about what I might do, but no clear steps. Hermione had always organised the plans and, when she wasn't around, I tended to do best playing it by ear. But something told me that when dealing with Malfoy I had better plan a few steps ahead, he was not one to take it as it comes. I needed to get close to him so he would talk to me; I knew that much, but the only way I could see to achieve that was to jump into bed with him like he wanted me to. I didn't know how long I could reject him or lead him on without driving him away. It's possible I may have to give in. But would I really go that far just for information? Part of me hoped that I wouldn't have to and part of me hoped that I would.

--

I woke the next morning exhausted and as confused as ever. After all my crying to Remus I felt only mildly better, his solution to my problems – getting my friends back – was not an option for me, even though it was likely the only solution that would work. I couldn't do it. I was quickly realising that somehow Malfoy was all I had left – Mike just didn't have the emotional strength I needed, not like Malfoy did – and I think that infuriated me more than anything else. When you only have one person to rely on Malfoy was not the most promising support. Remus was probably right, without Hermione and Ron I would never survive this war, but if I faced a life without them anyway, why would I want to?

_Malfoy. _His face sprang up in my mind again, his smile somehow pushing back these dark feelings threatening to swallow me whole. Why was he always in my head now? Why was I suddenly fantasising that he would provide for me what my old friends had taken away with their abandonment? Friendship. Companionship. Love. He would never _really _provide that for me, but as much as I consciously tried to fight it, deep down, I wanted those things from him.

I clamped my teeth shut and inhaled deeply through my nose, clenching my fists angrily as though ready for a fight. I was officially _sick _of Malfoy taking over my life, my thoughts, and my hopes for the future. Who was he to make me want these things when he knew – when _I_ knew – he'd never provide them for me? He was making me crazy and I didn't know how to stop it, my body and my mind refused to listen to logic and I wasn't sure I was strong enough to resist their desires for him. He was going to push me and eventually I would crack; Harry Potter's virginity goes to Draco Malfoy who ticks the achievement off his 'Things to do before I die' list.

But I'm still a _Gryffindor_ and if I was going to lose myself to him I wasn't going to go down easy! My anger at myself for being so weak, my anger at him for his persistence and likely victory consumed me and I fed off its energy as I braced myself to fight back.

I pulled my seat up roughly as I sat next to him in Potions that morning. "We need to talk!" I hissed trying to show Malfoy I was not to be messed with today. I was in no mood for any more of his games.

"What about?" he asked sounding disinterested as he flicked his eyes over his class notes. Clearly, angry or not, Malfoy still intended to play games with me.

"Don't pretend you don't know. I saw you!" I snapped, narrowing my eyes to show I was not buying into his bullshit this time.

"You'll have to be more specific than that, Harry. We see a lot of each other," he replied casually. He was so frustrating, I have no idea why I was drawn to him, but his games were quickly curing me of that; now I just wanted to punch him, not kiss him.

"You want specific?" I answered smugly – if he could be difficult, so could I. "Fine, how about two days ago at about four in the afternoon in an empty corridor by the Charms classroom, is that specific enough for you?"

"Ah," he sighed, like he'd just remembered. "You mean that time I saw you get a blowjob from Corner?" he asked as though he'd spied on me eating breakfast and not mid-orgasm. "What about it?"

Despite my frustration at his games, hearing Malfoy openly mention the very act I'd imagined him partaking in while I wanked had my skin flush with embarrassment. I'd never been so grateful that my thoughts were mine alone to hear. "You were watching me," I accused, but he interrupted me before I could continue.

"If that's the only way you can make him shut up, more power to you," he laughed.

I didn't find it funny. I hated the way he devalued my relationship with Mike, sure I wasn't taking it as seriously as I should – how could I with Malfoy in my head all the time – but that didn't give him the right to make fun of my boyfriend! "What the hell were you doing there?" I growled.

"You'd just run off with a guy who was clearly unstable. What would a friend do if not check to make sure you were okay?" he asked.

"Really? You expect me to believe that?" I scoffed, rolling my eyes. He really did come out with total crap sometimes.

He just shrugged nonchalantly and focused back on our ingredients for the potion. "Think what you like, Harry, but you told me you only wanted to be friends, so I'm backing off. Clearly Corner is the winner of your heart, why should I keep after you?"

"Suddenly it was my heart you were after?" I asked sceptically. Honestly, did he think I was a complete idiot? He just threw me a hurt look, but didn't respond. "I'm serious, Malfoy," I persisted. "I think you've made it clear that you only want to fuck me."

He took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for his next words, and showed me a very rare glimpse of true emotion; he was hurt by my words and it surprised me a great deal.

"You've grown on me, Potter," he confessed. "I thought at first you might be a fun conquest, or even a heated fling, but I realize now that you're more than that, and you deserve more than that. If Corner makes you happy than that's all I could ever ask for, in the meantime I'll take second place as your friend… if the offer is still out there…" he whispered bashfully and the look on his face took my breath away. It was beautiful, but so misplaced on his features I couldn't help but remain suspicious as Remus' words haunted me; _'How do you know he's not double-crossing you?'_. Truthfully, I didn't know, but I couldn't deny him.

"It is –the offer, I mean," I answered, stumbling over my words. I had so many thoughts running through my head, so many feelings, and they were all contradicting one another.

Malfoy didn't reply, instead we settled into an uncomfortable silence where I was free to consider him and this new facet of his personality I was seeing which contradicted all the things I thought I knew about him. Had he been wearing a mask around me all these years and he was only now showing me his true self? Or was he _now _wearing a mask? My feelings were blinding me and it was so hard to tell.

"Shall we get to work then?" he suggested finally, and I could only nod.

I think I stared at him nearly the whole lesson after that, letting all the thoughts and emotions inside me tumble over each other, fighting to win a 'Should I? Shouldn't I?' battle with Malfoy at the centre.

It wasn't until Malfoy suggested we have lunch together that I thought of Mike; again he had filled me so completely I forgot the rest of the world. I hesitated at the offer and it was like he could read my mind.

"Right," he stated bluntly as though it should have been obvious I wouldn't eat with him. "Corner wouldn't take too kindly to that I'm sure," he shrugged. "Friends in secret then I suppose." He sounded hurt and I couldn't help but think he was disappointed in me for letting someone else stand between our friendship; I was disappointed in myself too. I felt like the world's biggest prat. "See you later then," he said finally when I didn't answer him. I felt so guilty and I didn't want to leave things like that, but I didn't know how to stop him and keep our relationship platonic at the same time. I'd only just gotten him to agree to be friends, and I didn't want to ruin that by letting my feelings get in the way and blurting out the wrong thing, making it obvious how I felt about him. With all the mixed up, Malfoy-related thoughts I was having, who _knew _what I might have ended up saying!

Malfoy was gone before I could stop him and I stood there like an idiot feeling guilty about needing my only friendship to remain a secret.

My conscience didn't permit me to go to lunch right away; I needed to make this up to Malfoy somehow. I knew I couldn't approach him now, Mike would be waiting for me in the Great Hall and unless I was going to apologise in two words and then run away, I was going to need more time than we were typically allowed during the day. I made my way up to the Owlery where I knew Hedwig would be and tried not to think about what I was planning to do, if I did I knew I'd never go through with it.

I made the note short to discourage any rational thinking about what I was requesting and Hedwig was flying out the window before I had time to second-guess myself. Of course, once she was gone all I _had_ was time to second-guess myself and regret my rash behaviour. And regret it I did, so intensely, in fact, that Mike spent the rest of the day asking me what was wrong and what I was thinking about – it was obvious my mind was elsewhere. All I could do was shrug at him, as I felt increasingly guilty; for something I'd convinced myself was just going to be a friendly chat, it felt an awful lot like cheating.

I hate myself.

--

It was just past 11 o'clock when I entered the dusty classroom. I'd 'gone to bed' early – not that anyone cared – and spent the last few hours in bed watching Malfoy's dot on the Marauders Map. He'd only left his common room twenty minutes ago so I knew he hadn't been waiting long.

"Hilarious, Malfoy," I stated dryly by way of announcing my presence. We were in the empty classroom near the Charms room, the one in which Malfoy had watched Mike give me a blowjob. "You could have picked any room in the castle and you picked this one?" I said raising my eyebrows; it was as much a question as it was a statement.

"What can I say," he shrugged, hopping off the table he was sitting on and walking over to me. "I didn't want to pick somewhere too random; I wanted you to be able to find me after all. No sense in having you traipse all over the castle looking for me, not with Filch on the prowl."

I just rolled my eyes. "How considerate," I remarked sarcastically.

"Would you rather go somewhere else?" he asked suggestively wiggling his eyebrows, but his light grin told me he was joking – mostly.

"No, here is fine," I assured him honestly. "I've already tested it for privacy and noise levels," I teased, if he wanted to play with me I would play back.

"Yes and it didn't do so well if I remember correctly," he retorted.

"Pervert," I laughed, but I couldn't hide my blush even in these dim lights; he smiled and I could tell he noticed.

"As much as I don't mind being here either way, was there a purpose to this rendezvous?" he asked casually, strolling over to the abandoned professor's bench to inspect some discarded, dusty trinket.

I'd been expecting this question, preparing for it even, but I still didn't know what to say. "We didn't get to talk properly in class today," I said feeling stupid at such a lame explanation. I wasn't here for that at all, I wanted to make sure everything was alright between us; although only God knew why I cared!

"It can be difficult," he acknowledged evenly. "Did you want to yell at me properly this time without Snape watching so closely?"

"No!" I denied a little too quickly. I took a deep breath before continuing. "I may have been a little harsher than necessary, I'm a little stressed and there's a possibility I may have taken it out on you somewhat," I admitted reluctantly.

"Was that supposed to be an apology? Because if so-" Malfoy criticised haughtily, but I couldn't bear to let him continue. I had all these feelings for him and yet every time he opened his mouth I wondered what the hell was wrong with me! How could I be attracted to someone who was such a prat most of the time?

"Just shut up for once would you! I bet you're worse at apologies than me! I bet the word-"

"Sorry?" he said, cutting me off with a smirk. I stopped short, completely stunned and speechless; it wasn't the first time I'd heard him say it, but I knew it was a rare occurrence nonetheless. "If you're not here to yell, what did you want to say?" he asked looking at me expectantly across the room.

"I wanted to say _sorry _for the 'friends in secret' thing," I said finally. His gentle teasing had relaxed me somewhat, but I still felt a bit stupid. "It's not fair on you, but I think after everything publicly allying myself with you might just be the end of me." It was true, the climate in Gryffindor Tower was cold, but at least I was invisible there, if I made it known I was friends with Malfoy the climate would heat up fairly quickly and I'd be Undesirable No. 1 again – Hex on sight.

Malfoy winced at my words, his featured awash with hurt for a moment before he expertly froze his face into a look of indifference. "The end of Weasley maybe," he said, trying to sound casual. "He's so weak he might keel over and die where he stood! Think how satisfying that would be to see!"

"Don't you think I've hurt Ron enough by now?" I snapped.

"Come on, Harry," he scoffed. "You know I'm the wrong person to ask that question to, besides, what about how much he's hurt you?"

I sighed. Both Ron and I were in the wrong, but I knew I could argue with Malfoy about it all night if I wanted to and we wouldn't get anywhere, so I decided to change the subject and perhaps gather some information. "Regardless, I don't think your father would approve of our friendship, surely you wouldn't want him to know. He hates me!"

"Have you heard the rumours circulating about us, after that tantrum your boyfriend threw the whole school knows I have designs on you – or at least they suspect it," he countered easily. Did he _want _us to be open, public friends? And to what end?

I could see myself losing this argument and I knew he wasn't going to give me any information he didn't _want _me to have, he was too smart for that. But I couldn't give him want he wanted, I couldn't give in and say 'well okay then if you insist, let's arrive to breakfast hand in hand tomorrow'; he probably knew that too, not that he seemed to care.

"Speaking of Mike," I said changing the subject again. "Did you taunt him with your plans to steal me away from him?" I was more amused at the idea than angry; poor Mike never really had much hope standing up to someone like Malfoy –on an Ancient Runes test maybe, but verbal witticisms and sharp comebacks never.

"He told on me, huh?" Malfoy sighed in mock-defeat. "Well, he's lucky he's got you to stand up for him if he can't do it himself."

"Stop teasing him," I chastised, trying to hide the laughter in my voice; the image of the encounter I had running through my head was far too comical not to laugh.

"Why?" he asked stepping towards me.

"Because it's mean," I answered seriously.

"I tease you all the time, is that mean?" he whispered, but he was standing so close to me now I didn't have any trouble hearing him.

"No," I breathed starting to feel nervous at his proximity.

"So why is Corner any different?" he challenged me.

I glanced up and looked straight into his piercing grey eyes; I used to think they were devoid of colour, but as I looked at him now they looked like they could contain a rainbow of colours they were so beautiful. "Because I can hold my own with you," I answered.

"And he can't," Malfoy stated; it wasn't a question. "That's why we're so good together," he said carefully. I hesitated at his words; we were stepping on dangerous ground. He must have sensed my apprehension because he quickly added, "but we're just friends and that's all you want, isn't it?"

He wanted me to confirm it again; to say the words 'just friends' with him standing so close to me, breathing his sweet breath on me. My mouth went so dry my tongue stuck to the roof of it and I could barely speak. "I can't be with you, Malfoy," I whispered. I knew I sounded unsure of myself and he pursued my uncertainty.

"Why not?" he asked.

_Because I'd lose myself in you and I'd never find my way out again, _I thought.

Malfoy closed the last step separating us and our bodies pressed together, although he was careful not to connect our groins, that was too much and he knew it. He placed his hands gently on my hips to steady me, but he was by no means holding me against him, I was there of my own free will and he knew it – so did I. He pressed his forehead against mine and our noses touched intimately. His presence washed over me like a drug and I breathed him in and absorbed him through my skin. My heart was pounding faster than I ever thought possible and my stomach was fluttering with lust and anticipation. His breath warmed my mouth daring me to kiss him and I wanted nothing more than to oblige. I leaned into him and I felt our lips brush dryly against each other, but neither of us moved to kiss the other. He didn't push me further, he'd gotten us this far and if I wanted it I needed to take us the rest of the way.

Something inside me was holding back and I knew exactly what it was; Mike. As soon as his name rang through my mind I moved my face away from Malfoy's and buried it in the crook of his neck; he smelled fantastic, like clean skin and spicy cologne. Our bodies were still pressed together and I leaned into him for support, savouring our last moments of physical connection.

"I have a boyfriend," I muttered into his neck and saying those words aloud forced me to pull away from him completely. I couldn't cheat again, I didn't like who it made me, I couldn't hurt someone like that again, and, as I'd discovered, the consequences could be astronomical.

"That's your choice," he replied as I walked away from him, I almost heard his voice quiver and I felt energy zing through me at the possibility I'd affected him as much as he had me.

Once I felt we were a safe distance apart I turned to face him and shook my head in answer. "Even if I didn't," I told him wishing it were true; logically, yes being with him was a bad idea and I'd like to think I could resist, but I didn't know for sure, especially after that extremely close call. I didn't like how strongly he affected me; I didn't like that he had so much pull with me that he had drawn me as close to cheating as he had. It made me question my judgment on everything when it came to him and Remus' warning was still strong in my ears, even if my heart paid no attention to it. As much as I tried to convince myself I knew enough about Malfoy to be sure he was genuine, the truth was I didn't. He was so different to how I'd always known him, and yet, he was exactly the same.

"Am I not boyfriend material for you then?" he asked bitterly. My heart broke a little as I saw how hurt he looked in the soft lighting of this abandoned room.

"I just can't," I whispered defeated.

"Why?" he demanded harshly, he wasn't accepting any of my pathetically vague attempts to explain.

"Come on, Malfoy, you're not stupid!" I snapped, frustrated that he was forcing me to be honest with him; why couldn't life just be simple? "There's a reason you sit so close to me, you know what you do to me!"

"Yeah, I know!" he shouted back at me. "You do the same to me. You set me on fire and I can't think straight."

I looked up at him and gazed into his cloudy eyes; that was _exactly_ what he did to me. Was it possible that I had the same affect on him? Malfoy was as beautiful as a divine being and I was a scrawny, untidy orphan – how is it possible I could affect him like that?

"Can you imagine what that passion could feel like if we let ourselves explore it?" he pressed me when I didn't answer.

So we were back to that; his urging me to give in to my irrational desires against my better judgment. Was it really just his lust for me urging him to push me so hard? Or was there more to this that I didn't see? I didn't know. "I should go," I muttered as much to myself as to him. I needed to get out of there before he tempted me again, I didn't think I had the strength to resist this time.

"Why are you fighting this so hard?" he yelled at me as he crossed the room to grip my shoulder to prevent me from leaving.

"Because I don't trust myself with you!" I shouted, twisting out of his grip and running for the door.

He had an intoxicating effect on me that scared me and I knew that if he persisted like he was, he could have anything he wanted from me. I needed to protect myself from losing my senses to him as I had so nearly done tonight. The only reason I didn't was because of Mike. Malfoy wanted me to leave Mike to be with him, but I knew I had to keep my boyfriend at all costs; he was my only thread to my conscience when Malfoy intoxicated me the way he did. If Malfoy wanted Mike and I to break up he was going to have to initiate it himself because, right now, I was holding on to Mike tighter than I ever had before.

Author's Note: Ah, now it's my turn... do I chase after Harry or leave it be for now....


	9. Draco: Abandon

Author's Note: Yay! It's my turn again! Thanks to my brilliant Laurel for beta-ing!

Chapter 9 Abandon

I paced the length of the Slytherin common room, unable to concentrate despite my earlier resolution to stick to my Malfoy breeding and not look back. I kept checking the clock on the wall and wishing that more time had passed so that I could get my confrontation with Potter over with, but it was not even time for dinner yet. I had no real idea about what he wanted to say to me, but after his silence in Potions it all seemed pretty clear. He wanted out.

Once again I had managed to foul up a perfectly good plan with my own emotions. I could have played the friend card from the start, perhaps even gotten further that way, except that once I was in the thick of it, all I wanted was to be alone with the ruffled Gryffindor. He was so unpolished, so hot-tempered and so perfectly ethical –nearly the exact opposite of me in every way and I was inexplicably drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

He always spoiled my plans though; I shouldn't be surprised by it anymore.

Ever since first year Potter had inadvertently ruined me. Who could have anticipated him siding so loyally with a boy he'd only just met when I extended my own hand in friendship? When I caught him out at Hagrid's hut and told his Head of House it came back to bite me, when I got a spot on the Slytherin Quidditch team he bested me, even when we dueled in front of the entire school he found a way to make himself the center of attention. I used to hate him for it with every fiber of my being but I was beginning to realize that it was mostly coincidence coupled with the fact that I simply wasn't good enough. I spent so much time thinking that Potter courted fame that I never bothered to wonder if any of his ridiculous popularity before now had been actually deserved**.**

Regardless, I refused to let him continue on his lucky streak, deserved or not; he would not corrupt my plans _again_. I would go to dinner, then I would meet with Potter and I would make him mine**. **I had to, the longer it took for him to allow my touches the more I felt I needed to touch him; my desire was beginning to consume me and I needed to reign it in before I lost control of myself. The last thing I needed was for genuine feelings toward the Gryffindor Goodie-Two-Shoes to ruin my last ditch effort towards power and glory. It's not as if a true alliance with Potter would yield results anywhere near to what I could get from turning the boy over to Voldemort.

I had already thought of where I would meet him, though I was curious how he would find me. His note seemed rather confident and my interest was peaked for certain. Did he have some sort of tracking spell cast on me, or perhaps the note he sent? No doubt he'd keep that tidbit of information from me even if I asked him about it directly –he was part Slytherin after all.

All I had to do now was get through dinner and then head toward my selected location. As I made my way to the Great Hall I almost wished I hadn't skipped lunch there. I couldn't leave my fellow Slytherins wondering where I was too often because I didn't have time to do damage control on speculations about my absence. The last thing I needed was for Pansy to blather to her mother that I wasn't paying _her_ enough attention because I was now focused on Harry Potter. Gossip seemed to spread among adults almost as quickly as it did through the school.

I noticed at once that Potter was nowhere to be seen at the Gryffindor table and I wondered for a moment if he might stand me up tonight. It shouldn't matter but it did. I had been anticipating our encounter since lunch and couldn't bear to have the night end as anticlimactically as me sitting alone in a dusty old classroom.

Although, I wasn't permitted to think on it for long after Pansy sidled up next to me and pulled me along to our usual seats. "So, Potter was late to lunch today and you were missing entirely," she began, jumping right into the thick of her point.

"And?" I asked, though I could easily speculate on what perverted conclusion her mind must have drawn.

"Well, I simply wondered if he was good in bed. He must be rather quick at least," she said, trying to tease me.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed a roll from the basket in front of me. Pansy was a slag and a twit and it amused me to toy with her fragile little mind. "He's fantastic," I replied. "He adores it when I'm rough and screams quite a bit, which I love about him." Her jaw dropped in disbelief and it was all I could do to maintain my composure. "His arse is so tight," I continued and her face took on a greenish hue that rivaled the Slytherin banner hanging above our table.

"But Draco, you –you can't be," she stammered and my mouth curved into a vicious smirk.

"Pans, he's having one over on you," Blaise interjected, trying to sooth her.

"How do you know, Zabini? For all you know I could have had Potter bent over in a broom cupboard while you all enjoyed a nice stew," I retorted, not liking that Blaise was trying to thwart my fun.

"First off, I can tell when you're lying, Mate. Plus, you were far too cranky in Ancient Ruins this afternoon to have gotten laid at lunch," he responded with his own smirk and I let it be. I had been rather on edge this afternoon. I hated being unsure of what Potter had planned for us tonight.

"But did you see Potter's face when Corner confronted him about his absence? Potter looked guilty," Pansy added in her defense.

"Did he now?" I mused. The only thing he would have had time to do was to write and send me that note… and that itself shouldn't make him feel guilty… _unless_ he were planning something untoward. I broke into a grin and patted Pansy on the back before stuffing the roll into my mouth and leaving the Great Hall.

I strode back to the Slytherin common room since it was far too early to meet Potter and I couldn't remove the grin from my face. I just couldn't contain my mirth at the idea of Harry having inappropriate designs for our date tonight. When I returned to my dorm I found a note folded gently on my pillow. It was from my father –that much I could tell from the writing of my name on the front and from the elegant parchment -which served to wipe the smile right from my face.

Did I want to open it? Did I want to ruin the elation I felt at that moment from the simple fact that my plot for Harry might just move forward tonight? It was from my father though; I couldn't ignore it. With a sigh I reached for it and quickly scanned the contents. It was short –which wasn't unusual for my father, but there was something ominous in the tone.

_Draco,_

_Rumors have reached my ears of the goings on in our illustrious Hogwarts. I hope you're not doing anything unwise._

_Lucius_

Pansy. I swear that girl is such a menace. I rolled my eyes and set the note aside, I couldn't deal with it at the moment. I had no response for my father, no way to tell him not to worry, at least not right now. Who knows, my meeting with Potter tonight might change everything anyhow.

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I was spinning a decrepit desk chair around and around with my feet when I heard footsteps in the corridor; I looked at the door to see Potter standing in a mixture of light and shadow that did amazing things to his face. The anticipation was nearly choking me as I thought of what it might feel like to finally have Potter's lips against mine.

"Hilarious, Malfoy," he commented sarcastically and I grinned. I knew he'd appreciate my choice of meeting places. "You could have picked any room in the castle and you picked this one?"

"What can I say," I replied with a casual shrug, hopping off the desk I had made my chair and striding calmly closer to him. "I didn't want to pick somewhere too random; I wanted you to be able to find me after all. No sense in having you traipse all over the castle looking for me, not with Filch on the prowl."

"How considerate," he retorted, obviously meaning quite the opposite. It amused me that he was so uptight over the incident with Corner, as though he was embarrassed to relive it with me so close to him.

"Would you rather go somewhere else?" I suggested, shooting him a wry grin.

"No, here is fine," he replied rather hastily. "I've already tested it for privacy and noise levels," he added with a smile. I loved it when Harry smiled at me.

"Yes, and it didn't do so well if I remember correctly," I teased, my eyes automatically going to the desk where I had witnessed Potter's debauchery.

"Pervert," he joked and his blush was too adorable for words. Still, it made me wonder if he was simply thinking about Corner and their heated moment together. I didn't want him dwelling on his boyfriend while he was there with me.

I made my way over to the dusty podium and sifted through several old discarded parchments and tried to let him have the floor, but he didn't say anything more. "As much as I don't mind being here either way, was there a purpose to this rendezvous?" I asked, trying to get Potter's thoughts back on me.

He stared after me for a moment and I began to wonder if I would need to prompt him further. "We didn't get to talk properly in class today," he muttered at last.

"It can be difficult," I agreed. "Did you want to yell at me properly this time without Snape watching so closely?"

"No!" he shouted before collecting himself once again. "I may have been a little harsher than necessary, I'm a little stressed and there's a possibility I may have taken it out on you somewhat."

I smirked lightly at his rambled admission of guilt. "Was that supposed to be an apology? Because if so-" I began but he quickly interrupted me with more shouting.

"Just shut up for once would you! I bet you're worse at apologies than me! I bet the word-"

"Sorry?" I offered, cutting him off so abruptly that he looked as though he might have swallowed his tongue. Its multiple meanings weren't lost on me as the single word acted as both a completion to his sentence as well as a quip to address his raised tone. I smirked, showing my amusement at his mild discomfort, but otherwise let the subject drop. "If you're not here to yell, what did you want to say?" I asked trying once again to steer the conversation away from unpleasantness. He was looking so frazzled and delectable tonight that I could hardly restrain myself. Based on his slightly neurotic behavior I gathered this wasn't going to be a 'will you finally shag me' speech and more of a 'I don't think we can be friends at all speech', which was one I really didn't want to hear.

"I wanted to say _sorry _for the 'friends in secret' thing. It's not fair to you, but I think, after everything, that publicly allying myself with you might just be the end of me," he replied finally.

So it was the break up speech I was being offered after all. I should have known better than to fill myself full of false expectations. I was so taken aback by his sentiment that I forgot to school my features and he must have seen how upset his comment made me before I was able to correct myself. "The end of Weasley maybe," I offered casually, not willing to give Harry up without a fight. "He's so weak he might keel over and die where he stood! Think how satisfying that would be to see!"

"Don't you think I've hurt Ron enough by now?" he lectured sharply.

"Come on, Harry," I scoffed. "You know I'm the wrong person to ask that question to, besides, what about how much he's hurt you?"

"Regardless," he countered. "I don't think your father would approve of our friendship, surely you wouldn't want him to know. He hates me!"

I was in no mood to discuss my father; especially not after the letter I had just received. "Have you heard the rumours circulating about us? After that tantrum your boyfriend threw the whole school knows I have designs on you – or at least they suspect it," I replied easily. It mattered very little what my father thought at the moment; I would see this thing through with Harry –Father's approval or no.

"Speaking of Mike," he said changing the subject again, back to the person I wanted least to talk about. "Did you taunt him with your plans to steal me away from him?" His smile told me that I had very little to worry about on that particular front, but I needed Harry to see me as more than just a threat to his shoddy relationship with Corner; though it seemed no matter what I did, it always came back to that.

"He told on me, huh?" I sighed as if it were the end of the world. "Well, he's lucky he's got you to stand up for him if he can't do it himself."

"Stop teasing him," he lectured me, but he couldn't hide the mirth in his eyes. He knew his boyfriend was weak and I wanted to get him to admit that fact, perhaps then I would stand a better chance at winning him over.

"Why?" I asked, moving a bit closer to where Harry stood and he immediately sobered.

"Because it's mean," he replied, all laughter now removed from his piercing green eyes.

"I tease you all the time, is that mean?" I asked him in a soft whisper, I knew I'd get the answer I wanted –Harry teased me back as sharply as I teased him. In his eyes he and I were evenly matched; it was fair.

"No," he replied quietly, his voice growing breathy and rapid like his pulse, which I could practically hear from where I stood.

"So why is Corner any different?" I asked bluntly.

He looked at me then, his gaze awash with emerald light and he sucked me in so far that I had forgotten what I'd asked him until he answered me. "Because I can hold my own with you."

"And he can't," I agreed, not even bothering to make it sound like a question. We were both perfectly clear on the fact that I was more stable, more powerful, and better matched for the Gryffindor, but something told me that wouldn't be enough –not yet. "That's why we're so good together," I added cautiously and braced myself for him to flip out on me but he merely bit into his bottom lip. He was uncomfortable and I could stand to lose it all, but I couldn't stop myself from challenging him further, all rational control seemed lost as I stared into his anxious eyes. "But we're just friends and that's all you want, isn't it?"

"I can't be with you, Malfoy," he whispered, but I could tell from the way he broke my gaze that he didn't want that to be true.

"Why not?" I pressed before closing the space between us. He didn't resist as I lightly rested my palms on his narrow hips, or even when I let my forehead fall against his and our noses touch. I didn't want to scare him away so I let that be the extent of our connection, but I felt him respond to me, which made my pulse take flight. I could feel his breath hitch, I could see his eyelids flutter shut as if waiting for me to press my luck, perhaps hoping I would so that he could deny me once more, but I refused to give him that pleasure.

I wanted to pull away myself first, gain the upper hand, but I couldn't seem to muster the willpower to disentangle myself from Harry's presence. Just when I thought I had mastered my power over him Harry leaned in and stole a chaste kiss, just a bare brush of lips really, but I could feel the desire in his breath just as surely as I could feel my own. I could practically feel his heart thumping in his chest now and I fancied that I knew where all his blood was going. I probably would have pushed further, pulling him into the deep and heated exchange I had always imagined between us, but he dropped his face to my shoulder and I tried not to show how much the gesture affected me.

If possible it felt even more intimate than his lips against mine had, and I had to resist all my instincts not to just fold him into a warm embrace. He seemed so suddenly sad and broken that my heart nearly broke along side him. For the first time it sunk in for me that Harry was mostly alone –and not by choice as it was for me. He leaned against me for a moment as if I was all he had in the entire world and for that brief moment that's exactly what I wanted to be. His entire world.

"I have a boyfriend," he muttered into my neck, breaking the sweet silence and reminding me that I wasn't here to fall under Potter's spell. I was here to make him fall under mine.

"That's your choice," I told him firmly, trying to make him realize he had another option, a tall, lithe and handsome option standing right in front of him. Still, I couldn't keep my voice from shaking as I said it because I was still trying to recover from the effects of our close proximity.

He merely shook his head at me. "Even if I didn't," he lied, and I knew it was a lie. Harry wanted to be with me; he wanted to touch me as much as I wanted to touch him, he was just a coward, too afraid to take a chance with me.

"Am I not boyfriend material for you then?" I demanded, still angry at having been so easily cast aside.

"I just can't," he whispered, looking even more broken than before.

"Why?" I pried, trying very hard not to shout my frustration at him and make things worse.

"Come on, Malfoy, you're not stupid!" he snapped back. "There's a reason you sit so close to me, you know what you do to me!"

"Yeah, I know!" I snapped back at him. "You do the same to me. You set me on fire and I can't think straight." I don't know why I told him that, but the moment I said it out loud I knew it was true. Potter did something to my senses that I couldn't explain away with fancy words or Malfoy family obligation lectures. He was unkempt, stubborn, brash, and at the same time had the most beautiful soul. It was infuriating. "Can you imagine what that passion could feel like if we let ourselves explore it?" I asked him once his silence became too much.

"I should go," he muttered and moved toward the door, but I followed swiftly and grabbed his shoulders, trying to maintain some semblance of control over the situation.

"Why are you fighting this so hard?" I shouted, trying to use my irrational pull toward him in some beneficial way, perhaps he would see it as genuine since it partially was.

"Because I don't trust myself with you!" he screamed, pulling away from me and nearly sprinting down the hall. His swiftness was unnecessary though because my feet were quite firmly glued to the floor. Had he really said that? Had Harry Potter inadvertently confessed a weakness for me? I could hardly believe my own ears. The thought of eminent failure quickly drained away to be replaced with the sweet fragrance of victory, which smelled suspiciously of Harry's innate scent –both sweet and spicy.

So the problems all boiled down to one, and that one minor casualty could be brushed aside easily enough. I would have to get rid of Corner, permanently if possible, but at least long enough for me to worm my way into Harry's life –into his heart. We'd be an unconventional pair for sure, but he obviously wanted it, wanted more, wanted me –just as I wanted him.

I was close to chasing after Harry, tracking him down and pinning him to the wall in a searing kiss. That would surely prove to him that I was serious about us, but then I looked down and saw the glowing green tattoo on my arm and thanked Merlin that Harry had run out when he had. The soft light of the Dark Mark glistened against the gemstone in my ring and I sighed. "Duty first, Draco," I whispered to myself as I padded quickly and quietly back to the Slytherin common room.

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Part one of my plan was simple enough and the best part of it was that it mattered very little what the outcome was. As breakfast ended the following morning I watched Corner and Harry shoot each other awkward smiles before Harry headed toward Defense Against the Dark Arts and I followed Corner. Once he turned down a sparsely populated corridor I made my move.

"Mike," I called, watching him turn around expectantly and I smiled as his face fell when he saw who had summoned him.

"Malfoy, what the hell do you want now?" he demanded, quite rudely I might add.

I just sighed in response and shook my head sadly. "I think you and I got off on the wrong foot, Mike –can I call you Mike?"

"No," he huffed.

"Fine, Corner then, sorry," I replied carefully. "Look, here's the deal. I like Harry, I really do, but he made it clear to me last night that _you_ were the one for him, so I'm backing down."

"You –last night… what?" he stammered, his face growing redder as his anger rose.

"Yeah, didn't he tell you? Oh well, it was probably just because it was no big deal to him. I tried to persuade him to leave you for me, but he stubbornly refused, so here I am," I offered, letting my face show the hurt and frustration I had felt last night before Harry's little proclamation.

"Why are you telling me this?" he scoffed. He was clearly confused and probably angry with Harry for lying, though revealing Harry's lie wasn't my main objective since I already knew Corner was a tattletale and Harry would almost certainly find out.

"I'm telling you this because you won. I bow down to your solid relationship with Harry but I'd like to ask your permission to still be friends with him," I requested. It didn't matter what he said, the seed had been sewn and I was going to be in trouble with Harry either way, though my trouble would be minor in comparison to how much trouble Harry would be in with Corner. At this point the Ravenclaw could refuse me, which would serve one purpose or he could agree, which would give me more time with his boyfriend.

"Sod off, Malfoy," he growled. "I don't want you anywhere near my boyfriend."

"I know it's unconventional, but think of Harry. He has no one right now, are you really so selfish that you would refuse to let him be friends with anyone else?" I reasoned.

"He can be friends with whoever he wants so long as it's not you," Corner spat.

"Doesn't it even matter what Harry wants?" I asked, trying to be diplomatic. "I'm coming to you because I don't want to cause any more trouble between you and Harry, but we're partners in Potions and have nearly every other class together, and now that the Gryffindors have abandoned him, you and I are all he has left," I explained levelly.

Corner took a deep breath and seemed to think about it for a moment before finally shaking his head. "No. I don't like it. I want you to stay away from him."

"I see," I grumbled. "Well you're entitled to your opinion after all."

"So you'll leave him alone?" he asked skeptically.

"As much as I can," I replied with an elegant shrug. "As I said, we're partners in Potions, but otherwise I'll keep away."

"Fine," he huffed. "I better not hear otherwise."

I held up my hands in mock defeat and stepped away from Corner before turning and heading toward Defense Against the Dark Arts myself. When I walked in Harry had already garnered our usual table and looked at me both hesitantly and expectantly as if he wanted me to sit with him but didn't want to want me to sit with him. Gryffindors.

With my saddest smile I stared at him for a moment and then tore myself away to take a seat at the opposite end of the room. Out of the corner of my eye I could see his surprised expression, but I didn't look back over at him once the lesson began.

It broke my heart a little the next time I allowed myself to look over his direction. Harry sat with his books propped up and just stared at them vacantly. This was his favorite class and he wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention. Was having him all to myself really worth this? Technically I could probably just apparate him directly to the Manor and hand him over to the Dark Lord right this very moment, but then I would miss out on my hard earned reward.

With a sigh I began to fidget in my chair. Never before had anyone -not a fellow Slytherin, not my mother or father, not even Voldemort- made me feel so fucking conflicted. It should be simple enough; I was closing in on him more and more each day, so why did I feel as though I was committing the ultimate betrayal by leading Harry astray? Wasn't my duty to my family and not this ragamuffin Gryffindor?

Once class was dismissed I hurried away, only to be caught by the sleeve and whipped around in a corridor outside the classroom. "Harry?" I asked quietly, not quite meeting his glare.

"Would you like to tell me what the hell is going on?" he demanded.

"You made your position clear last night. I'm not here to chase you," I told him firmly.

He narrowed his eyes and shook his head at me. "No, I don't believe that. Yesterday when I made myself clear you still wanted to be friends, so now you've changed your mind?"

"No!" I shouted, and then quickly regained composure and sighed. "I might as well 'fess up," I groaned aloud to myself. "No doubt Corner's going to tell you all about it."

His gaze grew menacing as he pulled us into a vacant hallway. "What. Did. You. Do?" he bit out.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I fucked up," I admitted. "I thought I was doing the right thing, but I think I got you into trouble."

"Malfoy," he began, his voice holding a terrible warning, but I continued as if uninterrupted.

"I told him about last night, it was an accident really," I told him quickly.

"An accident?" he scoffed. "How do you _accidentally_ tell my boyfriend that I…" he said, but finished with a low frustrated growl instead of audible words. After a moment of teeth grinding and running his hands haphazardly through his thick black locks he just looked at me tiredly and waved for me to continue. "Go on," he prompted. "How bad is it?"

I winced and shrunk down a bit. "I… I went to him to let him know the best man had won and that… this might be easier if I just let you see for yourself," I offered. "You probably wouldn't believe me anyway," I muttered bitterly, to which he cringed slightly.

"How?" he asked, seemingly confused by my suggestion.

"Give me your hand," I told him. He reluctantly placed his hand mine and I stared into his eyes before pulling the memory from my mind with the tip of my wand and letting it hover between us. "This is a bit faster than trying to locate a Pensieve," I informed him softly before carefully enunciating a string of Latin and watched as my memory filtered in through his temple.

Harry closed his eyes tightly against what I knew would be mild discomfort as my memory worked its way slowly to the front of his conscious thought. I watched him play through it, his face shifting from concern to relief to anger and then he opened his eyes once more and looked at me fiercely. "How could he," Harry sighed, sounding hurt.

"What?" I asked, feigning innocence.

"You were being perfectly civil and he just said no. He knows I have no one left," he groaned, seemingly torn between staying there with me and running off to confront Corner.

"I know, but you can't blame him, Harry. He's just trying to look after your best interests and he probably thinks I'm trouble, and let's face it, I am," I sighed.

"But then why did you even ask him-" he began and I shook my head.

"I thought I could do this, just be friends with you, but I can't," I sighed. "Seeing you in class today, you looked so sad and all I wanted to do was hold you," I admitted.

Harry's eyes went wide and he stepped toward me, seemingly unaware that he had done so. "Why are you being so nice?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"I'm not," I scoffed. "If I were nice I would have just left you alone with your boyfriend. If I were nice I wouldn't be thinking about you all the time, if I were nice I would disappear from your life altogether and let you be happy with the man you want."

With a frustrated growl Harry sunk to the floor, banging his head slightly against the stone wall behind him. "I don't know what I want," he whispered at last and it was all I could do not to dance triumphantly in the corridor.

Instead I sighed and ran my fingers through his hair. "Well, you know how I feel about you. When you decide what you _do_ want, you know where to find me."

Harry glanced up at me, his emerald eyes looking on the verge of tears and, as much as I used to want to see Harry Potter weep, I couldn't watch it. "Good bye, Harry," I whispered before walking away as fast as my legs would carry me.

I was so torn in that moment, more than I ever had been before and when I walked toward the dungeons I was thinking of ending it all right there. I could just walk away, leave Harry his last few months or so of happiness with Corner before the inevitable war ripped them apart. No one would be the wiser, no one but Snape even suspected what I was up to, I could leave this thing unscathed. No harm, no foul.

But that was the problem. As much as I tried to guard myself against it, Harry was inside of me. Part of me fell for those jewel-toned eyes and that messy black hair and worse –that crooked smile he got when he looked at me sometimes. I wanted it -all of it- and I was far too selfish to give the idea up now.

The decision wasn't easy, but I had already made up my mind when I arrived at Professor Snape's doorway. After my persistent knocking he finally jerked the door open and scowled down at me. "I assume you have a good reason for interrupting my only free period?" he snarled.

"I need a favor," I told him calmly and he simply rolled his eyes and ushered me into his quarters.

"Is there some message you need me to get to your father?" he asked when the door was securely shut.

"No," I admitted. "This is a much larger favor."

"Go on," he instructed with hungry eyes. Snape loved being owed favors, especially from someone as powerful as the Malfoy family.

"I need more alone time with Potter," I told him easily. "I need you to orchestrate a way for me to do that through Potions class."

"And how would I manage that?" he replied, his voice the usual snarky tenor.

I rolled my eyes and waved casually. "Assign us difficult homework, tell Potter he's failing and make me tutor him, give us a huge partnered assignment, I could care less _how_ you manage it."

"And why would I do this for you?" he asked wisely, and I batted my eyelashes coquettishly.

"Because you love me," I offered demurely and in jest.

"Hardly," he grumbled, rolling his eyes. "You're my Godson, Draco, but love has little to do with that as you well know."

"Yes, yes," I sighed. "What do you want you greedy bastard."

He simply chuckled and shook his head. "I think I'll hold my favor in reserve, but you must swear you'll do it, whatever it may be."

"Fine," I promised.

"Say it," he demanded.

"I swear to do your bidding when you next ask me," I replied and pursed my lips. "Do we have an agreement?"

"I think I can manage it, yes. How much extra time would you like?" he asked.

"As much as you can get me," I replied quickly and headed for the door. It was better for people not to see me in Snape's private quarters so I needed to slip out quickly.

"Has he gotten to you yet?" Snape asked as my palm touched the door handle.

"How do you mean?" I replied without turning around. Did he know about my growing feelings for Harry, had he been probing my mind while I stood there? I wouldn't put it past the sallow man, I hadn't felt anything if he did, but that didn't mean much, Snape was a master at Legilimency.

"His eyes are haunting and wise, just like his mother's," Snape whispered distractedly and I wondered if he was even still speaking to me.

"What?" I asked, turning around to face him. His cold obsidian gaze pierced me and a shiver flew down my spine. Snape could be terrifying when he wanted to be.

"You seem to be going to a great deal of trouble to secure a deeper relationship with the boy," Snape noted curiously.

"I need him to trust me so that-" I began, but Snape cut me off.

"Yes, yes I know the tale you've woven, one of intrigue and deceit. But I warn you, Draco –and this warning _is_ out of love- be careful what you wish for," he told me vaguely. "Revenge is a petty thing and once it is done it cannot be undone."

"I- I know what I'm doing," I replied, taken completely off guard by my Godfather's suddenly emotional speech. I'd never known him to give advice of any sort that didn't pertain to potion making, nor had I ever seen him so contemplative and seemingly heartbroken before. It made me curious as to what memories he was reliving when he spoke.

"Then that is all I shall say on the matter," he replied sullenly and turned away from me with a dismissive wave. I stood in the doorway and watched him for a moment before escaping into the dank dungeon corridor. Why was I now suddenly seeing the softer side of Snape? I had always looked upon him as pure Slytherin, possibly incapable of emotions of any kind, let alone love and regret. It made me curious to know more of the man's past, having suddenly realized he hadn't just sprung into existence as my Godfather and Head of House. He had his own memories from his own childhood and I realized he must have been through a lot to have been shaped the way he had. Even my Father, both a Malfoy and a Slytherin, was more compassionate and caring than Severus Snape –or so I had previously thought.

He had been right about one thing at least. Harry's eyes haunted me wherever I went; even in slumber I saw them staring back at me with wide-eyed abandon. When this was all over I would make certain that I felt no regrets, I wouldn't become the shell of a man that Snape seemed to be.

Author's Note: I can't resist a regretful Snape. I do adore him. My plan *cough* I mean _Draco's_ plan to break Harry and Mike up has begun!!


	10. Harry: In a state of flux

Author's Note:thanks to Laurel for writing it and thanks to me for the beta on this chapter... lol. No, really. I adore how this story is progressing so far. I'm so addicted to it.

Chapter 10 – Harry – In a state of flux

The human body is a fascinating creation; at least it is in my experience. My body does so much without my permission, so much I didn't understand. People say the brain controls the body, but sometimes I had to question that theory. I distinctly remember my body rudely ignoring my brain last night when I tried to get my heart to stop thumping so wildly in my chest, or when I tried to tell my cock to behave itself; apparently my body just did whatever it liked when Malfoy was around. That was what scared me so much, I seemed to have no control, just simply his presence was enough to send all sorts of hormones careening out of control. The closer he was to me the more my hormones raged and burned for him, it was frustrating because I knew if my hormones would only react that way to Mike then my life would be so much simpler. As it was my body temperature would only rise for Mike when his hand was wrapped around my cock. But Malfoy – Oh, Malfoy didn't have to do a damn thing but show up, in reality or in my head it didn't seem to really matter.

Take this morning for example; I'd decided that Malfoy and I needed to talk about what happened last night, I needed to make sure he was perfectly clear about the fact that we were _just friends_ and that was all we could be – and then he walked in the room and my mind fogged up. We locked eyes as he entered the Defense classroom and I warmed immediately, but desperately wished I didn't. I was sure he'd join me at our usual table, but then he pulled his eyes away and walked to another desk as far from me as he could manage. I felt the insult like ice-cold water being poured over my head; I couldn't believe he'd just left me here by myself. I felt betrayed. I shouldn't, he didn't owe me anything, he wasn't my boyfriend, he was barely my friend really, but I still felt betrayed. Contradicting my previous thoughts about pretending last night didn't mean anything, I became angry that he seemed so able to disregard it, disregard me, after what we'd shared. It hadn't been much physically, but it felt so close, so intimate. I think I'd inadvertently confessed everything to him through my body language, I was sure he knew how much I craved him, even if my mouth said otherwise. Part of me was expecting him to push harder for us to be together, I never thought that he'd simply ignore me outright.

I tried not to look back at him, it would have been too obvious, but I knew we had to talk about what was going on eventually. Why was he ignoring me? Was this some kind of ultimatum? All or nothing; if we can't be lovers he won't even speak to me? I knew he wanted more from me, but I got the impression he was happy enough to remain just friends.

He got up quickly when class was over and tried to hurry out the door, but I was determined to catch him and talk to him, even if I had to tie him down to do it. I jogged after him to catch up and reached out to snatch whatever part of him I could reach, pulling him around into an empty corridor where we could talk privately.

"Would you like to tell me what the hell is going on?" I demanded masking my hurt with anger.

"You made your position clear last night. I'm not here to chase you," he answered and my mouth nearly dropped open incredulously. So he _was_ offering me an ultimatum? … But it didn't make sense; he had agreed to be friends.

"No, I don't believe that," I replied, shaking my head slightly. "Yesterday when I made myself clear you still wanted to be friends, so now you've changed your mind?"

"No!" he exclaimed passionately before falling into a few seconds of silence. "I might as well 'fess up," he sighed. "No doubt Corner's going to tell you all about it."

My heart leapt up into my throat in horror – Corner? _My Mike?_ "What. Did. You. Do?" I hissed dangerously; I didn't need Malfoy messing around with my relationship behind my back.

He sighed deeply before speaking. "I fucked up. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I think I got you into trouble."

"Malfoy," I growled, warning him with my tone that he better start talking, and he better do it fucking quickly.

"I told him about last night, it was an accident really," he said quickly, obviously heeding my unspoken warning.

"An accident?" I asked sarcastically. "How do you _accidentally_ tell my boyfriend that I…" I didn't really know how to finish that sentence so I finished it with a growl. Malfoy could have ruined everything between Mike and me; _I _could have ruined everything by falling for the stupid Slytherin git. After a few moments of frustrated silence, I urged him to continue; I wanted to know what kind of damage control I'd need to do. "Go on. How bad is it?"

He cringed before starting to confess what he'd done and I braced myself for the worst. "I… I went to him to let him know the best man had won and that… this might be easier if I just let you see for yourself," he offered. "You probably wouldn't believe me anyway," he added under his breath and I felt a bit guilty.

"How?" I asked, wondering how I was going to 'see for myself'.

"Give me your hand," he requested and I felt immediately suspicious of his motives. Nonetheless, I complied and he gazed into my eyes before removing a memory from his mind with his wand. He showed it to me and said, "This is a bit faster than trying to locate a Pensieve."

He chanted something I didn't understand and somehow inserted the memory into my head. It was a strange experience, not the same as using a Pensieve, I closed my eyes and it was as though I was there watching it actually happen, except I knew that I wasn't. I didn't feel solid like I did when I was in the Pensieve; I just felt my consciousness. As I watched the scene play out in front of me, I felt a thousand emotions overwhelm me; I didn't know how to feel about it. Surprised at what Malfoy did, being the bigger person and bowing out. Guilty for always thinking Malfoy was, well, _petty_. Relieved that he'd played down what happened last night, I would easily be able to talk my way out of it with Mike. And then angry and hurt at Mike's dismissal of Malfoy's offer, even after he'd acknowledged I wasn't exactly heavy on the friendship front. Bastard. As if he thought he could dictate who I could have in my life, perhaps I was letting him dictate it a little, but I did that on my own. He never _told _me I wasn't to be friends with Malfoy.

When I opened my eyes the memory faded into the rest of my own memories and I saw Malfoy still staring at me. I breathed deeply as I realized just how much it would mean to him to know that I wasn't ashamed to be friends with him. He couldn't do this 'friends in secret' thing, he needed to know I was happy to admit we were friends to the rest of the school, and really, I _should _be happy enough to do that.

The problem was Mike.

"How could he," I breathed, feeling hurt at Mike's disregard for my needs and happiness.

"What?" he asked, seemingly wanting me to clarify.

"You were being perfectly civil and he just said no. He knows I have no one left," I groaned, I didn't know what to do. I wanted to stay and tell Malfoy that it didn't matter that we would be friends no matter what Mike said, but Mike was my safety net with Malfoy, my conscience – I didn't trust myself around Malfoy without Mike to hold me back. I needed to talk to him about this and sort it out; tell him what an arsehole he was being and make him see reason.

"I know, but you can't blame him, Harry. He's just trying to look after your best interests and he probably thinks I'm trouble, and let's face it, I am," he sighed. This was a whole new side to Malfoy; I'd never seen him behave so … _selflessly. _

"But then why did you even ask him-" I asked, confused by this new side to him.

Malfoy shook his head sadly. "I thought I could do this, just be friends with you, but I can't," he whispered. "Seeing you in class today, you looked so sad and all I wanted to do was hold you."

Those words went straight to my heart and I felt weak in the knees; I had to lean back on the wall to keep standing upright. What the hell was wrong with me? I'd suddenly forgotten all the reasons it was important for me to resist Malfoy's charms and stay with Mike. This boy was everything I ever wanted. "Why are you being so nice?"

"I'm not," he scoffed harshly. "If I were nice I would have just left you alone with your boyfriend. If I were nice I wouldn't be thinking about you all the time, if I were nice I would disappear from your life altogether and let you be happy with the man you want."

I felt like I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I groaned in frustration and let my head fall back against the wall. My legs could no longer support my weight and I sunk to the floor. "I don't know what I want," I whispered to myself and I closed my eyes against the world hoping that my problems would disappear with it.

Malfoy sighed deeply; he sounded tired. I felt his long fingers lovingly run through my hair and it made me shiver. "Well, you know how I feel about you," he said. "When you decide what you _do_ want, you know where to find me."

I opened my eyes and gazed up to where he loomed over me, I could barely contain the confusion and desperation I felt in that moment. "Good bye, Harry," he whispered to me gently before hurrying off, leaving me alone in my misery.

My life was such a mess and I had no idea how to fix it. Destiny. Prophecy. Voldemort. Ron and Hermione. Ginny. Mike. Malfoy. It was more than I could take and as a few silent tears slid down my cheeks I knew I needed to get away. Run away. Outside. These stone walls were suffocating me and I could hardly breathe in here.

--

As I sat out by the lake in the cool afternoon air I knew I was missing lunch but I didn't care. Who would miss me anyway? Certainly nobody at the Gryffindor table. Probably not Malfoy either, he didn't seem overly keen on being around me just now. Perhaps Mike would, but I wished he wouldn't, thinking of Mike tracking my movements only made me want to run even further.

As I gazed into the cool waters of the lake I thought back to my fourth year when I spent an hour down there. I remembered how silent it was, it felt very isolating and I remember being frightened by how alone I was, but right now I felt like being alone down there would be oddly comforting. It was another world, another life; I wondered if life was easier down there for Merpeople. Did they have the same problems as me? Perhaps I'd be happier down there with them.

I flopped back on to the grass and gazed up into the sky. There was a little bit of cloud but not much; it was mostly a clear azure sky that stretched up endlessly into oblivion. It made me feel small and I wished it were nighttime so I could see the sky littered with stars. Staring into the sky always made me think of my parents, I hoped that's where they were – in the sky – that's where I'd like to be. "I'm sorry," I whispered to them. I always fancied that they were watching over me, but for the first time in my life I wished that wasn't true; I think they'd be ashamed to see what I mess I'd made of things. "I love you."

I glanced at my watch. I'd have to go soon; I had Charms with Mike. I would have to face him in a few moments and I still didn't know what I wanted. Okay, maybe that was a little bit of a lie; I _did_ know what I wanted, what I didn't know was if I could allow myself to have it. Could I let myself have Malfoy? Could I rely on him? Could I trust him? If I let myself have him the way I wanted to I wouldn't just be dating him, or fucking him, I would _love _him. I would give him my heart and my soul as well as my body – he would have _all_ of me and I wouldn't be able to keep it from him even if I wanted to. I was scared of placing myself into the care of another, I had done it in a way with Ron and Hermione and they betrayed me. Could I trust him to care for me when even Ron and Hermione had let me down? I still didn't know him that well, he still surprised me with his kindness, but I guess I wouldn't know him that well until I stopped holding myself back from him.

As I began making my way back to the castle, I was still unsure about handing my heart over to Malfoy and still sure that my life would be much simpler if I could rekindle my attraction to Mike.

--

"Where were you?" Mike hissed at me as I slipped into the Charms classroom a few minutes late and took the seat beside him that he'd saved for me.

"I lost track of time," I whispered back as I pulled my Charms textbook out of my bag.

"You weren't at lunch," he observed and I just shrugged not wanting to get into it with him in the middle of class. "And neither was Draco Malfoy," he added, clearly accusing me of something untoward.

"Well we weren't together if that's what you're insinuating," I growled back at him. "I don't know where he was, I'm not his keeper."

"Where were _you_ then?" he persisted.

"Out by the lake, I needed some fresh air," I told him. "Lay off, okay?"

"I know you met with him last night," he told me dangerously as though he'd caught me with my dick in Malfoy's arse. I already knew that he was aware of my late night meeting and I was so glad I did because I was able to give him a casual shrug, silently asking him 'So? What's your point?' rather than the original shock and fear I hadn't been able to hide from Malfoy. "I won't stand for you cheating on me like you did Ginny Weasley," he bit out, looking triumphant at the hurt he saw in my eyes.

"_Fuck you_," I hissed at him. "I'm not cheating on you, you prick, and you fucking _know it,_ too."

"Mister Potter!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed commanding my attention. "I don't know what you and Mister Corner are talking about but if it's as interesting as it looks perhaps you'd care to share it with the rest of the class."

"No, Sir," I answered, dropping my head shamefully.

"Perhaps you'd like to pay attention then?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir."

I focused immediately on my work and began reading over the passage Flitwick was referring to. I was trying to ignore Mike as best I could without literally getting up and moving to a different seat. I was almost disappointed Flitwick hadn't separated us; it would have been much easier to concentrate on Compass charms if he had.

I was in the middle of reading about the wizard explorer who'd perfected the charm when I felt warm fingertips grazing the top of my hand. I flinched in surprise and snapped my head up to see Mike looking upset and rather ashamed of himself. He silently mouthed an apology to me and drew me in with his wide-eyed stare. His hand again moved over mine, but this time I didn't pull away. He caressed the top of my hand before slipping his palm under mine and lacing our fingers together. I didn't resist. Taking this as a good sign, Mike lifted my hand to his lips and placed three very tender kisses on my knuckles. He kept my hand close to his mouth so I could feel his warm breath tickling the thin hairs on my hand while he pleaded for my forgiveness with his bright blue eyes.

I matched his gaze as I considered my options. I could tell him to fuck off and run away with Malfoy – desirable, but not smart – or I could forgive him, try to make it work and convince Malfoy we're better off as friends – not exactly what fuels my wanking fantasies at night, but a much more intelligent choice.

I squeezed his hand and gave him a small smile and I saw his whole body relax as he finally let himself exhale. He smiled back at me and turned back to his work, but he refused to let go of my hand until I required it back to write notes.

I wondered briefly what I was getting myself into.

--

After Charms Mike pulled me into the empty classroom he'd blown me in previously, the same classroom I'd met Malfoy in only last night; I shivered at the memory. It was ironic that Mike would choose this room to talk about my meeting with Malfoy, I wondered if he knew its significance – I doubted it.

Instead of lecturing me or questioning me about my activities like I thought he would, Mike pulled me into a searing kiss. He pulled my body against his with a strong hand pushing between my shoulder blades and another guiding me gently into him at the small of my back. I yipped in surprise as he embraced me in one quick movement, but instantly melted into him. He didn't give me excited butterflies like he used to, but I was still a red-blooded teenage boy and so my arousal was obvious and almost instantaneous. I moaned into his mouth as he worked at my robes. I let the palm of my hand fall against his cock and I rubbed the length of it through his robes. He gasped against my cheek as he undid my robes with even more vigor than before, growling my name as he did.

He pushed me up against a desk and engulfed my cock like a starved man and my nerves buzzed with pleasure. He took in my entire length and pumped his mouth along it three times before pulling back to worship my cock with loving kisses and well placed licks, all the while stroking the base with his hand. "Uh, Mike," I groaned in pleasure and before I knew what was happening he had pushed me further back on to the desk and lifted my legs so his tongue had access to my virgin entrance.

This was something he had _never_ done before and I was surprised that he was being so bold. Previously it had been _me_ devouring him, directing him in our sexual activities, but now he seemed to be pushing me. I guess I had been pulling back from him lately and he had been hinting heavily about how much he wanted to have sex. It felt strangely good what he was doing and he seemed to be enjoying it well enough, but it was his hand's attention to my shaft that had me panting for him.

"Oh God, Harry, please can I fuck you?" he begged as he came up to steal a kiss, which left me understandably a little disgusted. "I'll be gentle I swear."

"I'm not going to let you take my virginity on a dirty desk, Mike," I told him, not feeling as horny as I had been just moments before. "I'm not someone you can just fuck. I told you before I want a bed and some privacy. Anyone can walk in on us in here."

"You were happy to fuck me against the greenhouse only a month ago," Mike whined.

"Well, I've changed my mind, okay?" I said, starting to gather up my robes.

"Don't go, Harry, we don't have to have sex," he said, grasping at my hand. "I'll find somewhere I promise and I'll make love to you the way you deserve." He kissed my fingers again and I could only think about where his mouth had just been.

"Okay, but I really do have to go," I told him, not really having to be anywhere. "I have a – um, assignment."

"I thought you only had Transfiguration and you finished that days ago," he frowned.

"It's a new one," I lied. "Potions for Snape, you know what he's like, tries to make sure I don't get to have any fun."

"Alright, but I still wanted to talk to you about Malfoy," he added, sounding colder than before.

"Yeah me too, tomorrow, okay?" I asked him. Tomorrow was Saturday and we'd have all weekend. Plus Mike would have brushed his teeth by then.

--

Saturday was a Hogsmeade weekend and Mike found me at breakfast to ask if I'd like to go to the Three Broomsticks for a drink with him and his friends. I looked for Malfoy at breakfast but I didn't see him anywhere; not that I really had anything to say to him, I just liked knowing where he was. I'm ashamed to say I checked the Marauders Map last night and watched his dot in the Slytherin common room for a while. I should have checked it again this morning.

"Okay, sure," I nodded to Mike and smiled at the three boys standing by the Ravenclaw table waiting for him: Terry Boot, Frankie Gibbons, and Ricky O'Brien.

As we walked down to Hogsmeade the boys were all very friendly, asking me questions about different classes and assignments, none of them talked about the nasty business with Ginny or Malfoy, so I wasn't sure how much Mike had told them. It became a little clearer how much they knew when Malfoy entered the Three Broomsticks. We'd been sitting there for a while and Ricky was telling me about Quidditch in Ireland and how his cousin had recently been recruited for a reserve spot in a professional Irish team, when Malfoy strolled in with Pansy Parkinson jabbering at his side and Zabini and Nott following behind. He glanced around the room looking for a table and stopped short when he saw me wedged in the middle of a flock of Ravenclaws. Mike narrowed his eyes at Malfoy and he glared back momentarily before ordering a Butterbeer to go and stalking out of the pub, the other Slytherins gazed after him curiously before smirking at me and taking a free table on the other side of the room. Conversation was noticeably forced at my own table after that and it wasn't long before Mike excused us both and we separated from the group.

"That was fun," I said as we stepped back into the streets of Hogsmeade. I pulled my coat closer around me as a cold breeze chilled my ears. "You're friends are nice."

He smiled at me. "I was hoping you'd say that," he said. "It's good for you to get to know a few new people; you should make some new friends."

"Ooohhh," I sighed as it finally dawned on me what he was doing. "Is this so you don't have to feel guilty about telling me I can't see Malfoy anymore?"

"Well, you don't need him as a friend, he's nothing but a slimy Slytherin and you know he's just going to turn on you one day," Mike told me matter-of-factly.

"Is that so?" I growled, gritting my teeth hard.

"You do remember that he used to be your enemy? He used to tease you and your friends all the time," he reminded me.

"Yes, thank you, I _do _remember and a lot has changed since then," I said. "Malfoy was the only one to stand by me when my world fell apart."

"The _only one?_" he spat angrily.

"No, of course not the _only one_," I replied quickly realizing my error. "The only _friend_, I meant, you – you're different, you're my boyfriend."

"So I'm not your friend?" he asked.

"Of course you are, _Mike_, you're making this really difficult, I'm getting confused and you're twisting my words all around," I whined at him.

"I don't want you seeing him again," he told me.

"That's going to be a bit hard; he's in most of my classes." A fact I was secretly glad of.

"Outside of class, when you don't _have _to see him or talk to him, I'd rather you didn't," he clarified.

"I don't like being told what I can and can't do, Mike, Malfoy is no threat to you," I retorted angrily.

"_Don't _lie to me, Harry, I'm not an idiot, I'm a Ravenclaw!" he shouted. We had begun walking back to the castle early so thankfully there weren't many others around. "I know you feel something for him; I've seen the way you look at him."

I didn't know what to say, he was right and I'd been caught out. I thought through the range of responses I could give him and none of them seemed to get me out of trouble unless I lied outright, which I had already tried to do and it didn't work.

"I don't want you to see him outside of class," he repeated.

I sighed defeated. "Okay, fine," I conceded. "I won't talk to him unless I have to."

Malfoy had requested the same thing anyway when he gave me his all-or-nothing ultimatum yesterday. This way everyone got what they wanted except me.

--

When I arrived to Potions on Monday morning Malfoy was already sitting with Zabini who was smirking at him and whispering something under his breath that Malfoy didn't look pleased to hear. I paused in the doorway not really sure where to sit now that sitting with Malfoy was clearly no longer an option.

"Harry," I heard someone say from behind me. I turned to find myself face to face with Neville, the first Gryffindor to really speak to me in nearly a month. Neville had always been kind in his own way though, making sure I was awake in time for breakfast and telling the others off for using all the hot water in the morning, leaving me with an ice cold shower. "You can sit with me if you like," he offered and I nearly cried.

"Thank you," I breathed softly. I made my way over to Neville's usual bench to sit down. "How have you been?" I asked. It had been a long time since I was able to talk to him and I had always been rather protective of Neville even though he needed my protection less and less as the years went on.

"Good," he smiled. "I'm sorry about everything, Harry; I should have stood by you."

"It's okay," I said shaking my head. "I understand it's not easy."

"Well, shall we get ready?" he asked, obviously not wanting to talk about what happened. I nodded and Neville shuffled off to get the ingredients.

Neville and I chatted carelessly while we worked, mostly about his latest Herbology project, he didn't ask about Mike or comment about my new friendship with Malfoy, but as things were I preferred it that way. Perhaps we weren't concentrating as much as we should have but by the end of the class our potion definitely was not a bright fuschia, but rather a dull orange. I knew we hadn't done well.

"Abysmal, Potter," Snape remarked as he glanced over our potion. "Not that I expected anything more from you. You're clearly in dire need of assistance from someone more competent than Longbottom."

I grit my teeth as I felt rage bubble in my stomach at the insult Snape had directed at both Neville and I, but I still picked up on the oddly decisive tone in his voice, like he was genuinely suggesting I get assistance. I was confused; I would have thought Snape would have taken delight in failing me in Potions this year.

"Malfoy!" he called out.

"Yes, Sir?" Malfoy answered.

"Potter is going to require remedial Potions lessons and I'm far to busy to give them to him myself, you are my top student so you will be tutoring him at least three times a week until exams," Snape explained with the whole class looking on dumbstruck.

"But – but – Neville?" I stammered, not knowing _how_ I was going to explain this to Mike. I'd only just promised I wouldn't see Malfoy outside of class and now I was going to receive extra tutoring from him.

"_Longbottom_ doesn't require an O in Potions to get into the Auror program, does he?" Snape sneered.

"No, Sir," I sighed, dropping my gaze. Since when was Snape concerned about my getting accepted into the Auror program?

I packed up my books, slowly waiting for the rest of the class to file out before moving off myself.

"Looks like we'll be seeing more of each other than we thought," Malfoy commented as he fell into step beside me.

"Looks like," I replied practically blushing. Damn the effect he had on me.

"Shall we meet in the library tonight?" he asked.

"Okay," I nodded, offering him a soft smile.

"Hey, Baby!" I heard a familiar voice call to me and Malfoy stiffened beside me. Mike had been waiting for me in the dungeon passageway.

"Oh, Mike, hi," I greeted him uncomfortably. "What are you doing down here?"

He swept me up into his arms and kissed me slowly; I could tell he was making a show of it for Malfoy's benefit, not mine. "I have some good news," he said to me, smirking as he watched Malfoy stalk off around the corner. "I spoke to the boys and they're planning a nice, _long_ outing next weekend."

"Oh really?" I asked confused. A long outing? Is he asking me to go with him on this outing?

"Uh huh, so my dorm room will be completely empty _all_ day Saturday," he said, nuzzling his face into my neck and kissing and licking at my skin. "We'll have plenty of privacy and a nice comfortable bed."

I felt my blood turn cold as I realized what he had arranged – my girlish requirements for losing my virginity. "Mike, I-"

"I can't wait to make love to you, Baby," he whispered softly in my ear. "I have to go soon, I have Transfiguration, but I couldn't wait to tell you I was so excited – _am,_ I _am _so excited." He grinned at me.

"Well, it's exciting," I said, laughing awkwardly.

He leaned in and kissed me carefully on my mouth. "I love you," he confessed and I was rendered speechless. "I'll see you at lunch," he said finally before dashing off down the corridor.

I took a deep breath and wondered what the fuck I was going to do now.

Author's Note: Well, apparently I just can't take down Mike quickly enough. Laurel is persistently keeping Harry away from my poor little Draco.


	11. Draco: For Good or Ill

Author's Note: My turn again! Many thanks to Laurel and her unbiased beta work on this chapter. I know it's been hard not to steer things for her own benefit. lol.

Chapter 11 For Good or Ill

My mind was turning traitor on me. All day long it filled me full of schemes and plots to further attain my prize, while at night it filled my head with images of Potter sprawled naked and wanting on my bed. It scared me sometimes to think that I never fantasized about anyone else these days, every single night it was Harry's piercing green eyes and full pouting lips that caused my arousal to escalate. I was wanking more now than when I had first discovered the pleasure, which was far too much for my own good; I was going to end up with an atrophied muscle if I wasn't more careful. It was beginning to wear on my nerves that I no longer had control of my renegade thoughts, and worse, I seemed to blurt more honesty at Harry than I had ever intended because of my growing lust for the boy.

As I lay in my bed staring blankly at the curtained ceiling above me, I began to wonder if it was only lust fueling my attentions toward the Gryffindor after all. No vulgar fantasies had come to me the night before, yet a flooding warmth still coated my body as I stirred awake, the warmth just hadn't all pooled in my groin as it usually did. There was no mutual masturbation, no deep-throating oral sex, not even the tantalizing use of leather straps or whips; no, last night's dream had been something altogether different. Harry was still the star of the show of course, but instead of the normally nude Harry –or my favorite, Harry wearing only his Gryffindor tie- I got a fully-dressed-and-just-plain-happy-to-see-me Harry. I was at the Manor, apparently returning from a long day at work and as soon as I opened the door Harry pulled me into a loving embrace, smothering my face with tiny, adorable kisses until I laughed and pulled him closer to me.

It had felt so blissfully perfect to hold onto Harry that way, as if he naturally fit in my arms. The scant snogging session was the extent of the physical manifestations between us however, because we were soon interrupted by a pair of stampeding children. One boy, with pale shaggy curls and crystalline green eyes and a little girl with pin-straight black hair and my own cold gray orbs, except they looked much warmer set in that tiny girlish face.

They leapt upon me as Harry had, knocking the other man out of the way and I pulled them up, resting a child on each hip. "How are my little munchkins today?" I asked, placing a kiss on each of their noses. "Did you behave for Daddy?"

The toddlers nodded, smiling innocently, which even in the dream I didn't believe for a second. "They were angels," Harry assured me from over the little girl's head before leaning in and stealing another kiss from me. The dream ended there, with me holding my children –mine and Harry's children- and a feeling of absolute contentedness washing over me. It was as if all the evil in the world had melted away leaving only Harry and I as a happy little family.

The dream had me feeling frayed, like the edge of my favorite sweater had come undone and Harry was smirking as he slowly unraveled it leaving me naked and vulnerable beneath its warm, comforting hiding place. All of my plans for the future were woven into that sweater and it was being stripped from me a thread at a time –and it was all Harry's fault.

Damn him for being charming and funny and stubborn and brave and beautiful. Damn him for being everything a man could want in a partner, in a friend, in a lover. Damn him for turning the tables and outsmarting me. I bet even now he was laughing his arse off at the ridiculous Slytherin prat who was chasing after him.

With a shudder I pulled myself completely out of bed and tried to shake away the last remnants of my Harry-Home-Maker dream. I knew that Harry wanted a proper family and a calm quiet picket-fence life, but did I? I hadn't thought so, but I had never felt as at home as I had being part of Harry's life, Harry's family -_my_ family.

"It was only a dream," I told myself as I walked to the shower, but I couldn't shake the image of Harry surrounded by our children painted in my mind and the feeling of completeness it left in me. "It was only a dream." I probably repeated the mantra no less than a hundred times before I shut the water off, and by the time I had finished toweling dry I had convinced myself that I was merely deluding myself with thoughts of a future that held Potter within it. My life's goal was already inked into my forearm and life as a Death Eater didn't lead to a warm home and happy children –I should know.

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When I returned from my scalding shower I noticed a scroll lying on my bed. It was tied with a green ribbon and as soon as I picked it up I felt the recognition magic drift over me like a cool breeze. It was from Snape, and it merely told me I had an urgent message from my Father waiting in the usual place.

Apparently my snide remark to Professor Snape when he hand delivered my last message went straight to the man's cool black heart because this time the cantankerous Head of House made me trek all the way up to our secret hiding place below the Owlery for it. It was already panning out to be a beautiful Saturday –a Hogsmeade weekend at that- and I wanted to get the retrieval of my father's note over with so I could try and meet up with Harry before everyone left. I thought perhaps that he might be willing to spend the afternoon with me under the careful ruse of 'just friends'. He'd obviously been quite livid with Corner after I showed him that memory, but I hadn't heard a word from him since so I had no idea if the boys broke up or not, as I was hoping they would.

I was still reeling from the dream, but I thought that spending the day with Harry might help ground me, help me make sense of things. Maybe I could even find some perfect reason to continue with my original plans, some terrible character flaw in the boy that might make turning Harry over to Voldemort seem like a deserving punishment once more. Perhaps Harry secretly slaughtered small fuzzy animals in his spare time…

Unfortunately, I found it quite difficult to imagine any other reason being enough to feel Potter should still be sacrificed for my own life's betterment, especially when I was no longer certain that the Dark Mark on my arm should be the direction my life followed.

Again I pushed the confusing thoughts from the forefront of my mind and sighed as I felt the warm air through the windowless openings of the Owlery drift down to feather across my face. The warmth left me the moment I stepped into the makeshift broom closet, however, and I hastened to the back of the room, ignoring the various cleaning implements and the repelling charms until my eyes laid on the familiar tapestry once more.

"Stinson," I called and the little dwarf popped out of his usual hiding place behind the tree with a yawn.

"Aye, 'tis me. Come to fetch the bounty that lies within me?" the surly dwarf asked.

I shuddered at the image those words brought to mind and vowed to try and think less about Harry's perfect body when I came to visit my secret room. "Yes. Snape said he left me a letter."

"What he left is no business of mine. Are you ready for your questions?" the dwarf retorted sharply, to which I nodded. "Alright then, state your full name."

"Draco Abraxas Malfoy," I recited easily.

"Excellent. What house do you honor and cherish above all?" he asked.

"Slytherin," I answered dully, waving for him to get on with it.

"And now for the final question, what is most precious to you?" he asked cryptically.

"Myself," I replied quickly, recalling my answer from last time, but this time the small tanned dwarf studied me closely.

"Are you sure that be your final answer?" he asked, his eyes squinting slightly. "It feels… not false, but not entirely true either."

"Would you just open up and give me my letter," I demanded, utterly through with his tripe. I wouldn't allow myself to stop and wonder what the little dwarf was hinting at, and I refused to acknowledge the angry butterflies that erupted in my gut when I silently cursed the dream once more. Seeing Harry in that light had rattled me, but it was nothing a misplaced tantrum couldn't cure.

"Fine," the dwarf huffed, bristling slightly. "You're no fun," he griped as the tapestry folded away to reveal the rolled up parchment. I quickly snatched it up and left the dank little room, eager to feel the sun on my face, and hopefully have Potter by my side on the walk to Hogsmeade.

I was reaching for the seal of the note, ready to read my Father's urgent words, when I heard a noise from further down the stairs and quickly pocketed the scroll. I turned to make sure there was no evidence that I had just been in that little janitorial closet and when I turned back around I was met with the dark brooding eyes of my housemate, Blaise.

"There you are," he huffed, seemingly annoyed.

"Master of stating the obvious as always," I quipped before quickly heading downstairs, trying to ignore the fact that Blaise was easily keeping pace behind me.

"You weren't at breakfast and we were wondering if you had left for Hogsmeade without us," he continued, heedless to the fact that I was attempting to lose him. I didn't have to wonder at what he meant when he said 'us' because he and Pansy were virtually joined at the hip these days, though that didn't seem to keep either of them from trying to thrust their hips in my direction.

"No, I haven't left… yet," I replied. "Have you seen Potter?" I inquired, thinking that the gossiping boy might be the fastest way to find him.

"He's gone already," Blaise replied. "He was in the center of a flock of Ravenclaws."

"What?" I asked incredulously.

Blaise furrowed his brow and eyed me curiously. "Why do you care anyhow?"

"You know I'm trying to bed the boy," I replied quickly, regaining some of my normal composure and trying to eliminate the foul taste my own words left in my mouth.

"Why? Corner's probably beat you to it, anyhow," Blaise replied with a smirk.

"What the hell would you know?" I barked, before storming out of the castle and onto the gravel path that lead to Hogsmeade. I made the long trek to the village alone, listening closely to my own rough footsteps so that I couldn't hear myself think. If I bothered to hear them I knew my thoughts would be whispering about Harry. Things like '_he's betrayed you with Corner already'_, '_Harry would never sleep with a Death Eater anyway'_, and '_Harry could never love you'_ all accosted my brain, but I refused to heed the words.

What did it matter anyway? All I had to do was get Potter alone and use the heirloom ring to transport the boy to the Manor. My Father could take it from there. Then Corner would lose too –but then so would Harry. A guttural scream erupted suddenly and without warning, and it took me a moment to realize the sound had been pulled from my own throat. Why was everything so confusing? Why did I have to feel anything remotely honest for the Gryffindor git? Why did he continue to refuse me?

I was so busy focusing on the sound of my own footfalls that I didn't notice the other pairs that had joined me until a slender arm curled through my own. I looked over to see Pansy giving me a wide grin and attempting to lean her head against my arm until I yanked it away. Blaise was behind her looking triumphant and it appeared I wouldn't be permitted to shake either of them for the day. I used to relish in my popularity, taking great joy in the droves of Slytherins that would answer to my beck and call, but now I only wished for one person at my side and I wanted that person to be a shaggy-haired Gryffindor.

I didn't stay in Hogsmeade very long that day. In fact I bought a bag of sweets from Honeydukes –licorice wands and pumpkin pasties, my favorite- where we ran into Theo and then we all decided to go to the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer.

Hearing about Harry being whisked away by Corner and his friends and actually seeing it with my own eyes were two very different things. As soon as I entered the pub I could feel him there and when I sought him out I found Blaise's assessment to be quite accurate. Harry was laughing, surrounded by four other boys, all of which were devoting their complete attention to the Gryffindor as if they were going to take the boy into the alley for a gang bang after they finished their butterbeers.

It wasn't the way the other boys acted with Harry that truly irritated me though; it was the way Harry reacted to their attention. It was as if the incident with the Weasley bitch and the other Gryffindors had never happened. I examined the smile on his face as he chatted with the other Ravenclaws, none of them even important enough for me to recall their names, while Corner sat close, his arm draped over Harry's shoulders –that smile made me falter.

The lion was taking refuge amongst the birds, a group that could never hope to know him the way I did, but he looked content nonetheless. I realized with a heavy heart that Harry was no longer isolated as he once was, which left me with a much smaller opening into his life. Although a serpent was skilled at fitting into tight spaces, but if Harry found he no longer needed my attentions then I would find myself at a loss.

As I looked across the room to see Harry's gaze flick up to mine I was reminded of those same eyes set within a small pale face beneath a mop of blonde hair. I banished the image from my mind, denying any of the rising feelings of regret that threatened to choke me and I ordered my own drink to go, wishing they would sell students something potent. I left the pub almost as quickly as I had entered. I couldn't bear it anymore. I couldn't stand to see Harry being enveloped in this other relationship, I couldn't watch as the boy fell more and more in love with someone else.

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The weekend slid by so slowly that I was actually thankful when Monday's Potions class began. I excelled in the course, but at this point I would take Care of Magical Creatures over having to sit and wonder what squishy things Harry and Corner had gotten up to over the weekend. At least in Potions, Corner couldn't fawn all over Harry right in front of me –I nearly gagged just thinking about it.

I sat with Blaise, much to the boy's surprise and unfortunate delight; apparently he thought that my sitting in class with him took him one step closer to getting me to fuck him. I hadn't the heart to inform him how badly he was mistaken, plus I didn't need him booting me away from his table so that I would have to sit with Harry again. I still couldn't look at him, still couldn't think about him without seeing another boy on his arm. The idea that I had gotten so wrapped up in Harry's charismatic presence had me scared witless.

What would I do when school let out for the holidays? How would I answer my father when he asked what I had achieved that year so far? '_Well Father, I got perfect marks in all my classes, I made Blaise Zabini my willing slave and I fell in love with Harry Potter_.' I shuddered to think about the punishment I would receive for bringing such shame upon him. Father would probably lock me in the dungeon and only visit me so that he could make himself feel better by hexing my arse off.

The distaste of that scenario was probably clearly written on my face when Potter strolled in. Blaise was yammering away in my ear but I wasn't listening; I was instead focused on the momentary panic I saw in Harry's brightly shining eyes when he realized he wouldn't be sitting with me. To my surprise, Longbottom offered him a seat and Harry quickly accepted.

More friends for Harry equaled even less room for me in his life.

Ignoring Blaise became even more of a chore once the lesson began and it was simply miraculous that we produced a flawless potion considering how distracting his loose mouth had been all period. I was just thinking how happy I would be, finally finished with my potion and rid of the confines of the classroom, when I heard Snape's dulcet tones speaking from the direction of Harry's seat and suddenly the pit in my stomach grew. I had nearly forgotten the favor I had asked of my Godfather, and now more than anything I wanted him to stop talking and forget I had ever said anything. I didn't want to be around Potter now; I didn't want the feelings I had for him to increase, or worse, manifest into something more substantial. It was bad enough I was crushing hard on the boy; I didn't want it to progress even further.

My dream came once more unbidden to my mind, the urgent way Harry pulled me into his arms as he greeted me at the door, the yearning I could feel from him even as I held his children –our children. I wanted to scream aloud; shouldn't I get to control at least one thing in my life? My mind was continuing to betray me by thinking about Harry without my permission. My life was about duty, not love.

I shook my head sharply at Snape, but he didn't notice and proceeded to assess Potter's failed potion assignment. "Malfoy," Snape called out before I could hide.

"Yes, Sir," I replied, not being idiot enough to deny him now.

"Potter is going to require remedial Potions lessons and I'm far too busy to give them to him myself, you are my top student so you will be tutoring him at least three times a week until exams," he explained and I tried to tell him with my eyes that this was no longer what I wanted. Unfortunately, my Godfather ignored my silent pleas and turned back to face Potter, who was fighting the arrangement as well. Both relief that Harry might change the Potion Master's mind and hurt that Harry was equally adamant about not spending time with me flooded my consciousness before I watched Harry finally concede to Snape's plan of having me tutor him privately.

Oh, what I would have given to have a time turner so that I could go back and stop myself from asking Snape for that favor –or perhaps just to murder Corner before he was even able to set foot on Hogwarts grounds. Blaise looked over at me rather possessively, but I simply shrugged. When it was time to go, I fell into step behind Harry, unsure of what to even say to him. "Looks like we'll be seeing more of each other than we thought," I mentioned dully, wishing the statement weren't true.

"Looks like," he replied, and though I tried not to look at him, the blush creeping up his face was rather evident and difficult to look away from.

"Shall we meet in the library tonight?" I asked, rejuvenated slightly by his reaction to my simply standing beside him.

"Okay," he replied, smiling softly, though when I heard the all too familiar voice of Harry's boyfriend from behind me I wondered if the smile was for me at all.

"Hey, Baby!" Corner called, having apparently stalked Harry down to the Dungeons to meet him after class; he couldn't possibly leave him alone with me for even five minutes, could he?

"Oh, Mike, hi," Harry replied at once, his eyes flicking from me to his now hovering boyfriend. "What are you doing down here?"

Corner's initial response was just to shove his tongue down Harry's throat, a sight I couldn't bear to witness any further so I left, although I didn't go far. I lingered just around the corner out of sight and listened to their brief conversation. I couldn't pass up the chance to hear how Harry behaved while alone with Corner. In public they seemed attached but still aloof, one normally had to pay close attention to know they were a couple –aside from a couple ghastly public displays of affection. I had often wondered how they were in private –if Harry was a closet romantic or if his only passionate outbursts were with me.

"I have some good news," Corner told Harry. "I spoke to the boys and they're planning a nice, _long_ outing next weekend." My stomach dropped at the words and I felt my skin run icy cold.

"Oh really?" Harry replied, sounding slightly distracted.

"Uh huh, so my dorm room will be completely empty _all_ day Saturday," Corner explained. "We'll have plenty of privacy and a nice comfortable bed."

I wanted to burst around the corner and throttle the meddlesome Ravenclaw. This weekend the boy was plotting to take Harry's virginity –take it from _me_! I shook my head and stalked off toward the Slytherin common room, chastising myself the entire way. Harry wasn't mine, nor would he ever be at this rate, but I sometimes felt like he was and it made my skin crawl just thinking about Corner touching _my_ Harry, kissing _my_ Harry and doing Merlin only knew what else to _my_ perfect Gryffindor.

They were probably back there working it all out, trying to figure out a way for Harry to get into the Ravenclaw dorms and what they would do once inside. I wagered Potter was probably thrilled, relishing in the idea that in five days time he would belong completely to Corner. Fucking happy little couple, I hated them both. Several of the decorative pillows and other left behind items in the common room felt the brunt of my anger as I vented it by casting Reducto randomly around the room as I thought of the two boys together. Here I was, falling for Harry like a twit while he was off plotting his first glorious fuck with Corner.

And now I had to go teach the boy how to properly brew a potion! I could kill myself.

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Unlike the weekend where I wanted the classes to begin again and time nearly stood still, my tutoring of Potter came upon me far too quickly for my liking. It felt like I was still watching them making eyes at one another during dinner before suddenly I was toting my textbook toward the library to meet up with Harry.

The Gryffindor was already in the library, which was otherwise virtually empty when I arrived; save for Granger who looked up from her table in the corner and watched me as I took a seat across from Harry. He'd been folding scraps of parchment into odd shapes that didn't look like much at all, only looking up when I cleared my throat.

"Sorry for that Mike thing," he muttered distractedly as his only greeting.

"What do you mean?" I asked, panic lacing my blood as I thought perhaps he knew I had eavesdropped on their sexy weekend plans.

"Him interrupting us in the corridor like that," Harry replied, looking at me as if to gauge how upset I was over it.

"He's your boyfriend, Potter. He's allowed to talk to you whenever he wants," I replied shortly, pulling my textbook open and flicking to page seventy-two.

"Potter," he whispered under his breath, but I pretended not to notice and turned the book around to face him.

"Do you think you'd be free to study on Saturday?" I tested, waiting to hear his response. I knew what he was going to say, and I even knew how much it would hurt to hear it, but I couldn't seem to stop myself; perhaps if I heard him admit it out loud I could hate him for it.

"Er… I'm busy Saturday," he admitted. "How about Sunday?"

"I'm busy Sunday," I muttered before going right into the lecture; I didn't hate him, even as much as I wanted to. Instead it just killed a part of my heart, I nearly felt it wither and shrink inside of my chest. "We should probably start with the potion you and Longbottom bollixed up today," I reasoned sharply. "The Blood-Replenishing potion is actually quite simple, but you have to pay attention. It's very time sensitive and the smallest delay can make it go awry. On the plus side there is little one could do to make it explode, but as you saw today it's fairly easy to fuck it up, leaving you with a mess and wasted ingredients."

"You're angry with me," Harry said, not a question, a statement.

"I'm not angry with you, Potter," I replied and pointed to the text I was about to go over urging him to follow along and forget whatever he was thinking. I wanted nothing more to do with the topic of his life or his relationship or ours for that matter –whatever that relationship even was.

"You're back to calling me by my last name, you've barely looked at me since you got here, and you're sniping at me," Harry rebuked, looking both angry himself and confused by my own attitude. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself before continuing, but I didn't have time because Harry pressed on. "What's going on?"

"What do you want from me?" I demanded, finally snapping and drawing the attention of the few people in the library with us. "You've never used my given name. Never. And it's not as though I _want_ to be here with you when I know you'd rather be off snogging Corner. I'd rather just get this over with, that way I can move on and you can go be happy with your _precious _Ravenclaw."

His face held such a mixture of shock and sadness that I only wanted to kiss it away, take it all back and just go on pretending –because that was what I'd been doing all weekend, ever since that blasted dream… maybe even longer than that. I'd been pretending that Harry meant nothing to me, that he was just a tool I could wield in order to secure my place beside the most powerful wizard aside from Merlin himself, but I knew now that whether or not Harry fulfilled his prophecy to take Voldemort down, the Gryffindor was still the better wizard, still the better man.

I hadn't meant to lose my temper, quite the opposite. I had wanted to be cool and approachable in case Harry wanted to talk, but I suddenly realized I couldn't be the sweet friend who was always there for him while he lived in happy coupledom with someone else. I didn't even want to pretend to play that part anymore. I wanted Harry, and not for sex, not to betray him to Voldemort, not to increase my power or popularity. I wanted him to love me, to want me and to be with me always. I wanted my dream to come true.

Growling to myself –the only way I could keep from screaming- I waited for my blood to stop boiling and my mind to calm down. I felt like a silly Hufflepuff girl thinking lovey-dovey thoughts about Harry Potter of all people. How would that even work? I could blow him a kiss as he went off to be killed by Voldemort, or if Harry actually won, he could blow _me_ a kiss as they shipped my arse off to Azkaban?

"Malfoy, I-" he began, grabbing the hand that was still miraculously pointing out the potion in my textbook. He didn't get any further than that though because energy sparked between us so powerful it nearly sent me sprawling out of my chair. He must have felt it too, because his eyes were wide with astonishment. How could he continue to ignore the fact that we seemed so compatible? I wanted Harry so badly, wanted him as my own, and he wanted… Corner? It just didn't make sense to me.

We both pulled away at the same time only to look awkwardly at one another for another moment. "I like you, Harry," I admitted at last, my voice a suitable library whisper. "I like you more than I'm willing to admit and far more that I should. I'm just having a hard time being your friend when I know you don't feel the same about me." He seemed speechless, unable to move his tongue to form the words 'you're right' and apparently unable to even nod in reply. I sighed and shook my head. "Just forget it, okay?" I told him at last resigned to my fate. "Let's just get through this and then we can go back to pretending the other one doesn't exist. Deal?"

His eyes narrowed at once. "No deal," he replied. "I have no friends, Malfoy. None, and now you tell me that you would rather ignore me than just talk to me."

"You seemed to have plenty of friends on Saturday. Look, Corner doesn't want you talking to me, and it's clear that it's his opinion you value most, and I get that, I do. If you were my boyfriend I'd want you all to myself as well," I grumbled truthfully. I probably wouldn't let him leave my sight or my bed if Harry was mine.

"They aren't my friends, they were probably just being civil because Mike asked them to. Mike doesn't get to decide who I can and can't be friends with," Harry replied bitterly.

"Have you told _him_ that?" I asked, snappier than I had intended, but I was still upset.

"Sort of," he admitted with a slight blush to his cheeks. "I did tell him I wouldn't see you outside of class, but this counts as class so why not make the most of it?" he asked hopefully. I'm sure my sudden mood swing had been the last thing he'd expected out of our private lessons, but I couldn't keep up the charade any longer.

"Because it's a lie," I told him quietly, realizing it was truer than my simple words could convey. "The minute we leave this library we cease being friends."

Harry sighed and sank lower into his chair. "I don't know what you want me to do," he huffed. "Mike's my boyfriend, he deserves input on who I spend all my time with, even if he doesn't get to make the final decision, and you didn't help matters by instigating his anger in the first place."

"I don't want you to do anything, Potter. You've made your choice, that's all I ever wanted you to do. Now you just have to live with it," I replied, and pointed more firmly at the text written neatly on the page of my Potions book. "What three ingredients are the catalysts for the Blood-Replenishing potion?"

Harry looked at me unblinkingly for a moment, so many emotions running through those expressive eyes that I couldn't begin to understand them all, before he began reciting off the required answer of 'ginger, bicorn and puffer fish eyes'.

"Correct," I replied and moved on quickly. The rest of the lesson continued in the same monotone manner, I just wanted to shove all my emotions deep down inside and pretend they didn't exist at all. I knew the moment we finished the lesson I could go back to the silent respite of my dorm, and that was the only thing spurning me onward.

When I completed the chapter I got up to leave and Harry just looked up at me, acting as though he wanted to say something, but he couldn't find the words, and soon enough he didn't get the chance.

"You lied to me!" shouted a very angry looking Corner from a few paces away. His voice cut through the heavy silence in the mostly empty library. I don't know how long he'd been there, but he'd obviously seen nothing, since there was nothing to see, certainly nothing to get angry about.

"I didn't lie. I told you I was coming here to study, and I am," Harry retorted sharply, though he seemed a bit guilty. Harry closed the gap between them so he wouldn't have to raise his voice and have the even the few students left in the room hear their argument. I, on the other hand, took Corner's outburst and sudden intrusion as a blessing. I just wanted to leave, hide myself away, and this distraction would allow me to do just that.

"You failed to mention you were studying with Malfoy," the Ravenclaw spat, his face turning a shade of red I'd only seen on a Weasley.

"He's tutoring me for Potions," Harry explained, trying to be reasonable.

"Yeah, I'll _bet_ he is," Mike scoffed, moving to stand between Harry and I, and blocking my exit. "Is he tutoring you for our date this Saturday as well?"

"Mike!" Harry hissed scandalously, looking around to see who else had heard, even though anyone who might have would have had to be privy to an earlier conversation in order to even know what Corner meant by the rude remark. I did though, and I was more than a little disgusted at the Ravenclaw's lack of concern for Harry's feelings.

It wasn't my place though, Harry had made that much clear at least. This was his battle, not mine. "I'll leave you two alone," I muttered, maneuvering around the arguing pair so that I could leave the library at last. It wasn't lost on me that Granger's chocolate brown eyes followed me out the same way they had followed me in, only this time a heavy sense of confusion was glimmering in those scrutinizing orbs.

I made my way back to my room and quickly pulled the curtains shut around my bed, happy to be away from prying eyes –emerald green or otherwise. It wasn't until I slipped my robe off and tossed it into the corner that I noticed the scroll I had completely forgotten about from Saturday. It had fallen out onto my bedspread and just sat there looking ominous. I didn't know how a scrap of paper could look so suddenly evil, but something about the yellowed parchment made me wary. I reluctantly picked it up and pulled it open, my eyes widening at the impact of the short note on the page.

_'The Dark Lord will be calling on you soon. Be prepared'_

No signature, no time frame, just a foreboding caution to 'be prepared'. What did that even mean? How was I to prepare? What was I preparing_ for_ other than to risk life and limb to bow at Voldemort's feet? How long did I have?

I wasn't able to scribble down any of these responding questions however, because almost as soon as I finished reading it, the scroll burst into flame and was reduced to ash right before my very eyes. I sighed and sank more deeply into my mattress, wanting it to envelope me and pull me into slumber's pitch-black embrace –anything to escape what my life had recently become.

How had everything changed in just over a month? How had my life gone from planned to haphazardly thrust into the shaking palms of a Gryffindor? I knew what that letter would bring upon my head –death. Somehow Voldemort must have heard tales of my plan to woo Potter into his midst and he was calling on me to make his own demands. I would be forced to either turn Harry over or die an excruciating death –the kind reserved especially for traitors.

The only question left was which option would I choose now that I knew I loved the Gryffindor prat beyond repair.

Author's Note: Bum Bum Bum! Does Voldemort know of Draco's previous intentions? What will Draco do? Ah, the drama and agony!


	12. Harry: Revelations

Author's Note: Laurel's turn again. tee hee, she can't do anything about the Voldemort revelation yet since poor Harry has no idea what's coming for him...

Chapter 12 – Harry – Revelations

I'd told Mike earlier that day that I was going to need to study tonight, but I didn't tell him who with. I gave him the same logical reason that Snape had given me – if I wanted to get into the Auror program I needed an 'O' in Potions – and he seemed to understand; he was a Ravenclaw after all. Apparently he and his dorm mates had planned a poker game for later that night and he wasn't too worried about not being able to spend time together. I was glad for that: he would be too busy to think about just what exactly I was doing or who else might be there.

As I waited patiently for Malfoy to arrive, I didn't let myself think about Mike anymore: it just made me feel like dirt. I'd practically betrayed him already with that almost-kiss and -after promising to remove myself from the temptation- here I was again: eagerly awaiting the thrill I always got when Malfoy was close by. Then there was Malfoy himself: he'd made it clear that he desired me, but until a few days ago I thought he just wanted to fuck; now, I wasn't so sure. After seeing him try to make good with Mike so he could still be friends with me, I was starting to think he might have feelings for me after all. But I wasn't stupid, I knew why he did it and why he'd showed me; his actions afterward were more than enough evidence of that. Malfoy wanted me to see him being the better man, putting my needs before his own, and when I still didn't run into his arms his selflessness seemed to dry up and I was left out in the cold again. Still, I knew it had cost him a lot to play nice with Mike and I appreciated the gesture nonetheless. I felt guilty for the way I was treating him, too. By now my attraction to him must be rather obvious and my continuing rejection must be frustrating for him as well; I almost felt guilty and, in an odd way, I felt like I was betraying him by seeing Mike instead of the other way around.

"Sorry for that Mike thing," I apologized as he sat down at my table. I couldn't look at him as my heart began to flutter in my chest. I knew the plans I'd made with my boyfriend following his interruption even if Malfoy didn't, and my guilt only increased as I hoped my thoughts weren't on display in my facial expression as they so often were.

"What do you mean?" he asked, looking worried.

"Him interrupting us in the corridor like that," I reminded him. I wondered how upset he was about it, I still felt like I was balancing the two of them, trying to give enough of myself to keep them both happy, but not so much I hurt either of them; I wasn't doing a very good job.

"He's your boyfriend, Potter. He's allowed to talk to you whenever he wants," Malfoy retorted sharply.

It felt like a knife in my heart to hear him say my name that way, the way he used to say it; as if it tasted foul. "Potter," I whispered to myself, just making sure I hadn't misheard him. I hadn't.

"Do you think you'd be free to study on Saturday?" he asked me pulling me from my shocked state.

"Er… I'm busy Saturday," I confessed reluctantly. "How about Sunday?" _After_ I've been deflowered.

"I'm busy Sunday," he grumbled, before launching into his lesson. Probably just as well he was busy: I didn't know if my sudden impurity would be noticeable afterwards; perhaps I'd turn purple or something.

"We should probably start with the potion you and Longbottom bollixed up today," he instructed me coldly before proceeding to explain the structure of the potion.

"You're angry with me," I said, preferring not to ignore his obvious frosty attitude towards me.

"I'm not angry with you, Potter," he replied evenly. He pointed out the page he wanted me to refer to in our textbook, but I wasn't going to let his mood swing so sharply without even a shadow of an explanation.

"You're back to calling me by my last name, you've barely looked at me since you got here, and you're sniping at me," I challenged him. I knew he wouldn't back off if I pushed him hard enough. Malfoy never backed off from me; he always pushed back. "What's going on?"

"What do you want from me?" he snapped at me loudly, causing some of the library's other occupants looked over at us. "You've never used my given name. Never. And it's not as though I _want_ to be here with you when I know you'd rather be off snogging Corner. I'd rather just get this over with, that way I can move on and you can go be happy with your _precious _Ravenclaw."

Well, I wanted him to push back and he did; I'm not really sure what I was expecting. He was jealous, that much was obvious, and in a way I had known that already; he's been jealous of Mike for a while, but I didn't realize it was affecting him this much. And he was right, I'd never used his first name. It just seemed so personal, like it was the last barrier between us. In a way I used it to remind myself of what he used to be, _Malfoy _the Slytherin bully, not the boy sitting across from me hurting because I was encouraging him with my actions but rejecting him with my words.

"Malfoy, I-" I started to say. I wanted to beg his forgiveness for hurting him, for not being able to give him what he wanted -what we both wanted- and I reached over to take his hand in mine allowing myself to touch him for the first time since we'd nearly kissed. His hand sent a hot shock of feeling straight up my arm and into my heart like he had an electric current running through his body. It surprised me so fiercely that I jumped back and it was only the support of my chair that kept me upright.

Malfoy just stared back at me. I could get lost in those cloudy eyes and I wouldn't care if I never found my way out again. Finally, after what felt like hours – days even – he drew a breath to speak.

"I like you, Harry," he confessed; I sighed my relief at hearing my given name on his lips once more. "I like you more than I'm willing to admit and far more that I should. I'm just having a hard time being your friend when I know you don't feel the same about me."

This was much more than I was expecting. I had guessed we both had strong feelings for each other, but while neither of us openly acknowledged it I could easily tell myself that I was confused or that it was just me being silly and he didn't feel anything for me. Now, I couldn't deny it: he wanted me and I wanted him, but there was too much between us; too much bad history and too much destiny hanging over our heads.

"Just forget it, okay?" he sighed a moment later. "Let's just get through this and then we can go back to pretending the other one doesn't exist. Deal?"

He wanted to take the easy way out and forget about me. I wish I could let him, but my heart choked at the very possibility of those eyes walking out of my life forever. "No deal," I stated firmly. "I have no friends, Malfoy. None, and now you tell me that you would rather ignore me than just talk to me."

"You seemed to have plenty of friends on Saturday," he retorted easily. "Look, Corner doesn't want you talking to me, and it's clear that it's his opinion you value most, and I get that, I do. If you were my boyfriend I'd want you all to myself as well," he replied sourly. Now that he'd confessed his heart, it seemed he couldn't rein it in.

"They aren't my friends, they were probably just being civil because Mike asked them to. Mike doesn't get to decide who I can and can't be friends with," I said letting him hear how resolute I was that one boy couldn't keep us apart; if I wanted to be friends with Malfoy I would be, even if he couldn't ever be my boyfriend…. I needed him.

"Have you told _him_ that?" he practically barked at me.

"Sort of," I replied evasively, knowing he wouldn't like what I was going to say, but I couldn't lie to him, not after he'd been so honest with me. "I did tell him I wouldn't see you outside of class, but this counts as class so why not make the most of it?" I suggested.

"Because it's a lie," he whispered harshly. "The minute we leave this library we cease being friends."

I let out a deep breath and relaxed further into my chair; I felt hopeless, I wanted to give him everything he wanted, but he wanted me and I just couldn't do that. It was a bad idea on so many levels. "I don't know what you want me to do," I sighed. "Mike's my boyfriend, he deserves input on who I spend all my time with, even if he doesn't get to make the final decision, and you didn't help matters by instigating his anger in the first place."

"I don't want you to do anything, Potter. You've made your choice, that's all I ever wanted you to do. Now you just have to live with it," he told me firmly, before pointing again at the page we were on and asking, "what three ingredients are the catalysts for the Blood-Replenishing potion?"

This time I let it go. I didn't push him; I had my answer. He was angry and hurt and there wasn't a thing I could do about it except give him the one thing I couldn't give. I answered his questions; I studied like a good boy exactly the way Malfoy wanted me to without bringing up anything deeper than the function of Salamander fillets in the potion. In my mind, though, I went over and over the reasons why Malfoy and I could never be together; he was a Slytherin, he'd bullied me for years, he hates my friends – okay, maybe that one is void now – his father tried to kill me, his family is loyal to Voldemort, and there's a possibility we will be on opposite sides when this war comes to a head. I couldn't fight my boyfriend: he'd have to give up everything if we were going to be together and I could never ask him to do that. No, we were better off apart.

We completed our work and just as Malfoy got up to leave I heard a shout that made my heart fall into my stomach. "You lied to me!" Mike's voice echoed through the nearly empty room and I knew that whoever was left in here would be looking up at us now.

"I didn't lie. I told you I was coming here to study, and I am," I answered more harshly than I intended as I moved towards him so I wouldn't have to yell. The fact was I was lying by omission and I felt guilty. I knew I should have told Mike I was studying with Malfoy but I didn't. Partly, it was because I wanted to avoid an argument, partly because I thought Mike was going to be occupied all night and I would get away with it, but mostly because I was sick to death of this jealous streak he seemed to have when it came to Malfoy and I was sick and tired of bowing to it.

"You failed to mention you were studying with Malfoy," Mike practically spat at me, his face glowing redder than I'd ever seen on him.

"He's tutoring me for Potions," I told him calmly, hoping some of my composure would rub off on him.

"Yeah, I'll _bet_ he is," Mike hissed at me disbelievingly. He positioned himself between Malfoy and I as though he was going to prevent me from flinging myself at the unimpressed looking Slytherin. "Is he tutoring you for our date this Saturday as well?"

"Mike!" I gaped. My mouth fell open. I couldn't believe he would take such a low blow and something so completely uncalled for; perhaps if he'd caught us in a similar position to the way we were in the bathroom a few weeks ago, but barely exchanging words while studying in a _public _place? That hardly called for Mike to accuse me of 'practice fucking' Malfoy.

Malfoy muttered his leave before making a hasty exit, leaving me on my own to face a very angry Mike. His last comment had set my own blood boiling though and I nearly slapped him then and there. He hadn't yet said anything and I was about sick of waiting for him to apologize when I decided I shouldn't have to wait. He wrongfully accused me of something I wasn't even _close _to doing – right then anyway – and I wasn't going to stand there like a fool with Hermione watching us like she cared.

I pushed past him roughly as I went to exit the library. "Harry!" he called to me firmly as though commanding me to stay.

"Fuck you, Mike!" I shouted at him, not caring who heard me. "If you're so fucking convinced that I'm going to cheat on you, if you're going to continually _punish _me for something I haven't done then I may as well do it! Is that what you want? Do you want me to cheat on you?"

"What else am I supposed to think with you sneaking off with him behind my back?" he retorted.

"Oh yeah, that's right, Malfoy and I are having a sordid affair behind your back and we came here so we could get it on right in the middle of the _library!_" I replied sarcastically before turning on my heel to leave. Madam Pince was giving me the evil eye anyway, so I knew it was time to go.

Mike followed me out, increasing his pace as I did. "Tell me then! Tell me why – after you _promised _not to see him outside of class – are you studying with him in the library like you're friends?"

"Why should I waste my breath? I'm only a lying cheater, aren't I, Mike?" I challenged him. "Do you _honestly _believe that I'm fucking around behind your back?" I asked him seriously.

We had stopped dead in the middle of a quiet corridor that, come Hogwarts peak times, was usually packed with students. "Honestly?" he asked. "My answer to that question changes so often that I don't know what to think. Sometimes I'm completely sure you're faithful and then something like tonight happens and I'm sure you're doing _something _with him."

There was a pregnant pause following his words. I was torn between pulling my hair out in frustration and breaking down in Mike's arms; instead I settled for standing there, weighing my options.

"Do you want the truth?" I asked him; I'd lied enough, I thought, it was time to tell him the truth. "You have to promise to hear me out."

He nodded carefully, obviously unsure if he preferred living in blissful ignorance or if he wanted to lay all our cards out on the table. I took his hand in mine and led him into the nearest private place I could find; a boys' bathroom. I maneuvered him so his back was pressed up against the wall and I leaned into him with both hands on either side of his head before addressing him in a firm and serious tone. "You can't run away until I'm finished, promise?"

"I promise," he nodded apprehensively, his face a whirl of conflicting emotions.

I locked his beautiful baby blues into an intense gaze, making sure I had his full attention before I spoke. "Malfoy is – _sexy_," I said letting him see the truth of my words; it was an undeniable fact. I knew hearing it from my mouth would hurt him, but I was far from finished; he wanted the truth and I was going to give it to him. "He's exciting and dangerous: the bad boy everybody craves a piece of. I have thought about it: how fantastic it would feel to have him trap me against a wall like this and do whatever he wished."

"Like he did in the other bathroom," Mike whispered looking hurt. He knew there was more to that incident than I let on and he'd known from the start.

"Yes, like that," I confessed. "Having him pursue me like this has been nothing short of maddening and in the spirit of honesty I will tell you that I have come _close_ to giving in."

Mike was taking short, panting breaths like he was on the verge of a panic attack. "Fuck," he whimpered and slumped further into the wall like it was the only thing holding him up. I pressed into him further, showing him that I was still there.

"I never did though," I whispered to him soothingly. "I've been faithful to you because you are the kind of man I could spend my life with, and Malfoy might be dangerous and sexy now, but its not worth sacrificing a lifetime of love and companionship for a short bout of excitement."

He directed his eyes back up to mine and I saw they were shining with unshed tears. "Really?" he asked me, his voice cracking with emotion. "You think we could last forever?"

"I think we'd have a shot at it," I said. _A better shot than Malfoy and I, that's for sure. _

"I love you, Harry," Mike whispered before I captured his lips with mine so I wouldn't have to reply.

-

It was Wednesday night, two days after Mike had caught me with Malfoy in the library and I was here again with him. My eyes kept darting up to the library entrance hoping to catch Mike early if he decided to storm in rather than have him sneak up on me like he had last time.

I had explained everything to Mike as I walked him back to his common room on Monday night after we'd made up in the bathroom; I think I gave him an extremely good apology, so good my jaw was still a tad sore the next morning. I told him about Snape and the required Remedial Potions lessons with Malfoy and I promised to be honest with him about where I was going to be and when I was meeting Malfoy. In return I extracted a promise that he trusted me and didn't make things difficult by interrupting or, Heaven forbid, _joining _our study sessions. I made sure to mention how cold Malfoy had been to me recently and how I presumed it was because it was clear he knew I wasn't going to give in and he had backed off; that was true in a way, but there was less pettiness in reality than I made it sound. Mike was still upset that I had to study with Malfoy though and he offered to tutor me himself for Potions – he wasn't bad, but he was no top-of-the-class Draco Malfoy – he even went to Snape to request the change in tutors since it had been the Potions Master who arranged everything, but had been rudely denied.

Despite having him promise to stay away I still thought he might show up, or at least try to spy on us, not that there was anything to spy on. I had positioned myself so I could see clearly the traffic coming in and out of the library and I could tell Malfoy found it irritating.

"Are you even concentrating?" he snapped at me, drawing my gaze back from the door. "We are brewing this tomorrow morning and you need to get it perfect."

"Why don't you just partner with me again and I _will _get it perfect," I suggested, huffing slightly. We had been at this for over an hour already and after the surprise Charms test this afternoon my concentration was already depleted. It didn't help that Malfoy had been ignoring me all week; I was getting sick of his childish behaviour.

"Yes, but you won't _learn _anything," he retorted. "Now focus. What is the active ingredient in the potion?"

"The Doxy venom," I answered and he indicated that I was correct by nodding his approval of my answer. "Malfoy, I'm sorry things didn't work out the way you wanted," I told him sincerely before he could throw me another question.

"Yes, not at all what I expected," he scoffed, almost to himself.

"I know Mike doesn't want me to, but I feel like if I work at him he might give in and we could still be friends," I said tentatively. "It's just I can't stand that we aren't friends anymore."

"I can't stand that you need permission from your boyfriend," he snapped back at me. "Besides, who said we weren't friends anymore?"

"You've been ignoring me," I reminded him.

"Yeah, well, I'm just – I dunno," he said, stumbling over his words slightly. "I'll get over it, probably."

"I wish it could have been different, you know?" I sighed. "You and me."

"It can be different if you want it to be," he replied softly, staring at his book.

"No, it can't," I said shaking my head. "There's too much between us, we hated each other for so long."

"Do you hate me now?" he pressed, finally meeting my eyes.

"No."

"Then it's already different, isn't it?" He smiled at me when he said this and I had to look away.

"Relationships aren't supposed to have problems before they even begin, we'd never last," I told him. I believed this wholly: we would end up fighting all the time and it would break my heart.

"Who says?" he challenged, leaning over the table towards me. "Romeo and Juliet had plenty of problems before they got together."

"Yeah, and look what happened to them," I quipped with a small grin, but I was serious in what I said.

He chuckled. "Okay, bad example. Besides, that would never happen to us, I have a reliable owl," he said. "And so do you."

I laughed at his declaration, thinking of the letter Romeo never received. "Families at war," I mused. "Hits a bit too close to home, doesn't it?"

Malfoy shifted uncomfortably in his seat and muttered something non-committal.

"I should probably go," I sighed, feeling the conversation end, and I began to gather up my things.

"Harry, just wait," he requested uncomfortably. He looked like he was having difficulty saying whatever was on his mind, but I didn't press him. "I – um, just – just be _sure _okay?" he asked awkwardly. "I wouldn't want you to do anything you might regret one day."

"What do you mean?" I frowned. "Be sure about what?"

"Nothing," he sighed shaking his beautiful blonde locks. "I just think some things are supposed to happen in a certain way – for the right reasons, with the right person."

My heart fell into my stomach as I realized what he was talking about; he knew I was planning to have sex with Mike soon. "How-" I started to ask him, but he interrupted me.

"I'm just saying," he said sharply, showing me clearly he didn't want to explain, he just needed me to be certain. I didn't feel like he was being rude, just direct.

"I should go," I told him once again, not wanting to explain anything to him either, and I picked up all my things to leave. He just nodded at me, perhaps a bit sadly, and I left.

I had a lot to think about as I walked back to Gryffindor Tower. How did he know I was planning on having sex with Mike? How did he even know I was a virgin? Had I told him that? Had Mike told people we had arranged our private time on Saturday? His roommates would know I suppose, they had arranged to be elsewhere after all, but would they gossip about it? Would Witch Weekly's latest headline be announcing my deflowering?

The truth was, I didn't really care. What resonated with me more deeply than all these questions I would probably never know the answers to were Malfoy's words; some things were supposed to happen for the right reasons, with the right person. Did he think that person should be him? Did he honestly believe that he was my _right _person? Or was he just making sure I wasn't jumping into this half-heartedly and giving away something precious to someone that didn't deserve it?

But Mike did deserve it. He loved me. That was all that mattered. I cared about him and it was enough.

I was probably halfway to the Tower when I realized I'd left my Potions book in the library with Malfoy. I wanted to go over tomorrow's potion one last time before bed and I'd only left the library five minutes ago, so I decided to run back and get it, hoping Malfoy was still there. I gripped my bag tightly to my chest and began to jog back the way I had just come. When I arrived Malfoy was definitely still there, but for a second when I saw him I was so shocked I couldn't move. He was there exactly where I'd left him but he wasn't alone, Hermione was there talking to him – no, judging from her body language, she was arguing with him.

"Look, Granger, I don't know how to make this any clearer," he was saying. "Piss. Off. Harry is not your business anymore."

"I just want to know what you think you're doing with him," she asked him harshly. "I've been watching you, Malfoy, and I know something is going on."

"Shall I write it down for you, would that make it easier for you to understand?" he asked her snidely, pulling out his quill and a spare piece of parchment. He scratched his quill over the paper and held it up for her and from the look on her face what he wrote wasn't very polite.

"If you hurt him-" she began to say, but I'd had enough.

"You'll what, Hermione?" I interrupted and I saw that she nearly jumped a mile from the surprise. She babbled an incoherent explanation and I only felt sorry for her; hurt, disappointed, sad, and sorry. "What do you want?" I sighed letting her hear my exhaustion.

"I'm just worried about what you're getting yourself into," she explained, her eyes darting around like she was worried about being caught speaking to me.

"If you were so worried, why didn't you ask me?" I questioned her. "Why come to Malfoy? I was here with him only ten minutes ago."

"I-" she choked on her words and didn't have anything more to say.

"You aren't allowed to check up on me behind my back," I told her firmly. "If you don't have the Gryffindor guts to face me then stay away. You either care about me or you don't, make up your mind and stick to it."

"Of course I care about you, I never stopped," she gushed at me.

"Then you'll sit with me at breakfast? Talk to me in the common room?" I asked her. "Partner with me in Potions tomorrow morning?"

"I can't," she practically sobbed, but no tears flowed from her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, it's all or nothing," I informed her. I was willing to forgive her if she was genuinely ready to be forgiven, but couldn't afford to have fickle friends. I needed some stability in my life; it was too unstable as it was to include friends I wasn't sure would be there the next time I turned around. "Don't ask after me again unless you're willing to be the kind of friend I need."

Malfoy sat watching the exchange with interest and I gazed at him intently trying to show him that I knew he was the kind of friend I needed in my life. "Malfoy and I might have been rivals at one point, and in a way we still are, but at least he never left me," I said, still staring at Malfoy. Hermione just gaped at me. I reached over and grabbed the book I came for. "Goodnight, Hermione," I said to her. "If she asks after me again, don't tell her anything," I told Malfoy as if Hermione weren't two feet away from me. "I'll see you tomorrow." And then I turned and left them both in the library feeling surprisingly good about myself.

I was proud that I had stood up for myself, I knew what I deserved and I didn't settle for less. I wouldn't settle for friends who were there one minute and gone the next, or friends who were only friends in certain situations but not others.

I stopped dead in my tracks.

Friends that were there in certain situations but not others? That sounded uncomfortably familiar. _Friends in secret, I guess._ I heard Malfoy's voice crystal clear in my mind. _The minute we leave this library we cease being friends. _

Suddenly my hopes of keeping Malfoy as a friend crumbled down around me. How could I be anything other than the kind of friend I wanted to have myself? How could I expect Malfoy's friendship when I continued to keep it secret from the rest of the world?

I realized with a heavy heart that I really was going to have to choose. I could try to have it both ways until I was blue in the face; the fact was I couldn't have both Mike and Malfoy in my life. One of them was going to have to go.

--

"Good morning, Harry," I heard Malfoy whisper in my ear from behind me the next morning as I surveyed the Gryffindor table from the entry to the Great Hall.

"Good morning," I greeted him with a smile. "I'm sorry about that Hermione thing last night."

"No problem, I can handle her," he shrugged. "It was a bit unexpected though, wasn't it?"

"Not for her," I told him shaking my head. "It would have been more surprising if it had been Ron."

"Do you think she'll try again?" he asked me.

"She'll want to, and she might if the opportunity comes up, but I doubt it now that I've warned her off," I told him. I knew she was trying to keep her concern for me largely to herself so that Ron didn't find out. "She'll wait until she can meet my conditions and she won't be able to do that unless she gets Ron on board too, and he's too stubborn to admit he might have taken things a bit too far."

"Plus with his sister and everything," Malfoy sighed as though he felt a bit sad for me. "Look, I know you liked them and everything, but you don't need them. Good riddance to them really if that's how they want it!" I smiled falsely and nodded, wishing my heart agreed with him. "Anyway, are you all ready for Potions this morning?"

"As ready as I'm ever going to be," I replied, glad to put the Hermione subject out of my mind. "I'm still a bit fuzzy on why we need to do a half counter-clockwise stir before we add the liverwort, but I know that I have to do it and that's the main thing, right?"

"For now, yes, but I'll go over it with you again tonight," he said sounding very much like the strict tutor I had found myself with lately rather than the seductive boy I knew he could be.

"Hi," I heard someone say carefully from beside me. I'd been concentrating on talking to Malfoy so much that I hadn't noticed Mike come up to us, but when I saw him I felt my panic rise; I wasn't supposed to be talking to Malfoy like this.

"Mike! Hi, um, we were just – just-" I floundered.

"I know, I heard, you were talking about Potions," he said. He didn't seem mad and I think that unnerved me more than anything, I couldn't tell what he was thinking. "Do you want to have breakfast with me?"

"Uh, sure," I agreed apprehensively. Did he mean breakfast with a side of arsenic? "I'll see you later, Malfoy," I said and the Slytherin gave me a quick nod before we parted.

Mike took my hand in his, lacing our fingers together as he led me over to the Gryffindor table where I knew we'd be afforded some privacy as we were ignored there rather than expected to join into the Ravenclaw morning discussions as we would be at his table. "I'm sorry about that, I know you don't want me talking to him when I don't have to," I said, hating the words as they came out of my mouth. I was still torn over the realization that I would have to give up one of them in favour of the other when really I wanted to keep both.

"Harry, can I say something?" he asked me before giving my hand a squeeze as we sat down. He leaned into me stealing a sweet kiss before speaking softly to me in a tone so honest it made me shiver. "I don't like him, I don't like him spending time with you, and I don't like him talking to you," he said. "I don't like the way he looks at you because I can tell what he's thinking and those thoughts should only be for me to think and no one else."

I took a deep breath and nodded sadly. "I know, I'm sorry," I whispered.

"But the fact is, I'm fighting a losing battle here," he continued, catching my eyes with his. "He's in nearly all your classes, you see him all the time and now you're studying with him almost every night. I don't want you to feel like I'm giving you rules and regulations; I want you to do things not because I tell you to, but because you know it would make me happy. You told me the truth and I want to keep trusting that you won't lie to me, so if you need to talk to him then talk to him. Hell, if you _want_ to talk to him then talk to him."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Really?" I asked breathily.

"Really," he confirmed. "All I ask is that you don't do anything you know I'd be upset about, don't discuss private things with him or meet up with him late at night in an empty classroom or anything."

"Of course, I – I won't, I promise," I hastily agreed. "_Thank you._"

He kissed me gently and it was perfect. _He_ was perfect. Better than I ever expected. I felt guilty for all the awful things I'd thought about Mike recently, it felt like he'd been tying me up in rules and expectations and I'd been submissive but furious about it. But I'd just been released from his restrictions and it felt wonderful. I felt like I was glowing in pleasure at his trust in me and I was determined not to let him down. I would be faithful and I would love him because he was wonderful and he deserved it.

Author's Note: And now they can be friends... will Draco be content with that?


	13. Draco: Deserving

Author's Note: yay! My turn again! I love it when it's my turn! Thanks to Laurel and Robert for their beta work on this chapter.

ASOCTD – 13 – Draco – Deserving

I waited patiently at breakfast on the Tuesday morning following our first tutoring session to see if Harry had once again forgiven the childish Ravenclaw. I thought for sure that his last bout of anger at the end of our tutoring session last night would have sent Harry over the edge and made him ditch Corner for good, but I was quickly proven wrong. They entered the Great Hall hand in hand and seemed even happier than they had before the Ravenclaw caught Harry in a fib.

I was curious as to why Harry even had to lie to Corner in the first place if he was in fact permitted to see me for class. I scoffed out loud at my own thoughts, pulling the attention of several Slytherin students around me as I did. It was ridiculous to think that anyone could lay such strict rules on Harry fucking Potter and that he would stand for it, no less; if he challenged Corner the git would fold to his demands and we both knew it. I supposed it made sense, though, when you looked at it in context. Since Harry obviously loved his little Raven, he probably took every excuse he could not to spend a spare moment within reach of the temptation he admitted he felt around me. However, I would have thought he'd have enough of that legendary Gryffindor bravery to tell me himself rather than continuously hiding behind Corner and the insufferable rules the prat concocted for his green-eyed boyfriend.

When I looked over and saw Harry massaging his jaw, my own jaw tensed and I got up to march across the room and confront Corner, thinking that the boy had somehow injured Harry during their argument the night before. Was I wrong to leave Harry alone with him? Had Corner gotten physical and tried to slug my beautiful Harry? It wasn't until I was halfway to the Hufflepuff table, my concerned gaze still fixed on Harry, that I noticed that there was no bruising on Harry's face and that the smile there was genuine and not directed at me. No doubt Harry wouldn't stand for an abusive boyfriend and the realization clicked in my mind at once.

Not only had Harry and Corner made up, but it seemed they had made up _vigorously._ My stomach lurched and I diverted my path from the Gryffindor table and instead went straight for the nearest boys' bathroom before losing what breakfast I had managed to stuff down. Seeing Corner service Harry had been one thing, but my feelings had escalated since then and to imagine my Harry on his knees for Corner –well, that was another thing entirely. This was getting insane; _I_ was becoming insane. Harry belonged to Corner, not me, when would I get that through my thick skull? Why did it rip me apart to see them together, to think of them… I shuddered again as images of Harry blowing that bully Ravenclaw entered my mind without permission.

Why couldn't life be fair and let me have my beautiful Gryffindor? Because if it did, fate would only intervene and snatch him away from me in a fit of childish tantrum. I couldn't help but think that my family's dark history was beginning to catch up with me and I was destined to have a miserable, loveless life just like my father. Perhaps I was not meant for love and love was not meant for me.

The note from the night before came unbidden to my mind. I'd been trying to suppress the reality of my life and future for too long, and here was fate coming at me as if I'd stolen her favorite teddy bear._'The Dark Lord will be calling on you soon. Be prepared'. _I shuddered again and was thankful I had already emptied my stomach of the few bites of omelet I had ingested, for it gave another heave at those words.

Shakily, I got off the filthy bathroom floor and made my way to Ancient Runes; thankful that it was one of the classes I _didn't_ share with Harry. I didn't know if my stomach could take a recap of my revelation this morning. Harry, I knew, had double charms with Corner, so I wouldn't have to worry about running into him until Transfiguration later today. Hopefully I would be able to avoid him easily then as well.

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It was far easier to escape Harry than I had expected. I had only spoken to him briefly over the last two days to arrange another session in the library for tonight, but I began to wonder the moment we sat down to our second private lesson if Harry had made other plans that he was keeping from me. His eyes continually drifted up to the door as if he was waiting for the moment when he'd be allowed to escape my company. I let it be for an hour, trying to simply concentrate on my tutoring and not Harry's emerald eyes constantly wandering toward the door, but after that my patience was drained and I could no longer pretend that I didn't notice his lack of attention.

"Are you even concentrating?" I snapped and he finally looked up at me. "We are brewing this tomorrow morning and you need to get it perfectly."

"Why don't you just partner with me again and I _will _get it perfect," he huffed petulantly, but I wasn't in the mood for it. It seemed as though his mind was drifting toward anything it possibly could to avoid thinking about me and I was growing increasingly frustrated. How Harry could remain with that git of a boyfriend I had no clue, especially after the last outburst I'd witnessed in this very library, but if Harry was happy to be subservient and bow to the Ravenclaw's every unreasonable whim, then so be it. It was his life after all.

"Yes, but you won't _learn _anything," I chastised him. "Now focus. What is the active ingredient in the potion?" I asked, trying to get his mind on track. If he wasn't thinking about me the least I could do was keep it occupied on his assignment.

"The Doxy venom," he answered quietly. I nodded my approval and tried to move on, but he opened his mouth to speak again. "Malfoy, I'm sorry things didn't work out the way you wanted."

"Yes, not at all what I expected," I huffed sarcastically. In a perfect world Mike would have never been born, Harry wouldn't have to face down Voldemort and I wouldn't have to choose who to betray –Harry or my own flesh and blood. Obviously I didn't live in a perfect world, and neither did Harry. I couldn't expect him to make a different choice with his life. If I were honest with myself -which I tended not to be- I couldn't even blame him for selecting safety over me. I always knew I would be trouble for Harry, and I truly didn't want that for him anymore, but I was selfish enough to keep him near me if I could.

"I know Mike doesn't want me to, but I feel like if I work at him he might give in and we could still be friends," he hesitated. "It's just I can't stand that we aren't friends anymore."

"I can't stand that you need permission from your boyfriend," I snapped, finally losing my temper. "Besides, who said we weren't friends anymore?"

"You've been ignoring me," he noted truthfully.

I had hoped he wouldn't notice, but apparently I was more abrupt with my avoidance of him than I thought. I just couldn't get past the letter I still had burned into my mind. Would Voldemort demand Harry's head? If he did, could I refuse him? I still wanted Harry more than anything, but would that feeling pass once I had him or would it become more prevalent? "Yeah, well, I'm just – I dunno," I stammered; mentally berating myself for not being able to keep a clear head around the Gryffindor. I missed him dearly, but I didn't cope very well coming in second place, and this was far more important to me than any Quidditch match. "I'll get over it, probably."

"I wish it could have been different, you know?" he sighed, almost as if he meant it. "You and me."

"It can be different if you want it to be," I replied in a whisper. I couldn't meet his eyes as I said it because I felt guilty as soon as the words left my mouth. Harry couldn't be mine, Voldemort would see to that even if Harry were keen to belong to me instead of Corner. Although, things could be different, they _were_ different –the fact that Harry and I were occupying the same space and not fighting was proof of that.

"No, it can't," he said and I could see him shaking his head in my peripheral vision. "There's too much between us, we hated each other for so long."

"Do you hate me now?" I asked, looking directly at him then.

"No," he replied, and I couldn't tell if he were pleased or saddened by that fact. Had I made Harry's life worse by just being part of it?

"Then it's already different, isn't it?" I replied with a subtle smile. His eyes tore away from mine; I went back to studying an oblong scratch in the library table.

"Relationships aren't supposed to have problems before they even begin, we'd never last," he informed me, as if this was his mantra.

"Who says?" I scoffed. "Romeo and Juliet had plenty of problems before they got together." I regretted the metaphor the moment it crossed my lips, but then I couldn't seem to bring a love story to mind that didn't end in tragedy. Perhaps that was our destiny if I were to win him. What if I were to finally capture Harry's heart only to betray him in the worst way? My will was weak and just the thought of telling the Dark Lord 'No' made me cringe involuntarily and feel sick to my stomach all over again. Merlin only knew what I would do if the wizard actually stood before me with that kind of demand.

"Yeah, and look what happened to them," he noted, picking up on my slip right away. Part of what I loved about Harry was that he was clever and not afraid to point out my missteps.

I laughed, momentarily filled with my own adoration of Harry. "Okay, bad example. Besides, that would never happen to us, I have a reliable owl, and so do you," I told him, trying to convince myself at the same time that there had to be a way for us to work –that we were not destined to end in tragedy.

Harry returned my laughter and for a single moment we really did live in a perfect world. For that split second it felt as though Harry was mine, but all good things must come to an end and he quickly sobered. "Families at war," he mused. "Hits a bit too close to home, doesn't it?"

Shifting in my seat, I couldn't seem to hold back the 'you have no idea' that slipped out of my lips. Luckily Harry didn't seem to hear it, or at least didn't press the issue further.

"I should probably go," he blurted reluctantly, grabbing books at random and shoving them into his rucksack.

"Harry, just wait," I requested, nearly reaching out to stop him with my hand, but quickly shoving it into my robe pocket. I hadn't wanted to say anything more about his plans for Saturday, I had wanted to stay out of it altogether, but I couldn't seem to stop my mouth from betraying me. Harry waited patiently for me to stammer out what I had to say. "I – um, just – just be _sure _okay?" I asked awkwardly. "I wouldn't want you to do anything you might regret one day."

Clearly my statement confused him and I wished I hadn't even said anything. "What do you mean? Be sure about what?"

"Nothing," I replied, silently berating myself for the second time that night. My mind was never clear when Harry was around. "I just think some things are supposed to happen in a certain way – for the right reasons, with the right person." With _me_. Wait for me. Please, Merlin, make Harry want me instead.

"How-" he asked, clearly shocked that I had any knowledge of his life deeper than what he had told me himself.

"I'm just saying," I said finally, hoping to end the conversation before I found myself falling to my knees and begging him not to sleep with Corner.

"I should go," he repeated, and I nodded, knowing it was best. I watched him gather his things –well, most of them- and leave the library. I sat there staring at his forgotten Potions book after he left. I probably could have stopped him or even chased him down to offer his textbook back, but part of me wanted to hold onto it, relishing in the thought of possessing something that belonged to him, and hoping he would have to seek me out to retrieve it.

It's not as though I had the opportunity to flag him down in the hallway to return his book, even if I had wanted to, because no sooner did Harry leave before his beautiful body was replaced with that of his old friend, Granger.

"What is it exactly that you think you're doing with Harry?" she asked, forgoing any pleasantries as she took the seat Harry had just occupied.

"Why yes, Granger. It _is_ lovely weather we've been having lately," I mused, ignoring her question outright. "Perhaps you should be out there enjoying it right this very moment," I suggested.

She merely rolled her eyes and leaned in closer. "I'm serious, Malfoy. What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm tutoring him in Potions. I wasn't aware I needed Gryffindor house approval for that," I replied sharply.

"He's not going to fall for your charm, Malfoy, no matter how thickly you lay it on. Harry's smarter than that," she huffed.

"I think it would be fair to say that you don't know Harry nearly as well as you think you do," I countered. "I know Harry's clever, it's one of the things I adore about him," I added, relishing the appalled look she gave me at my words.

"You're sick," she hissed. "You need to stop this game before you hurt him."

I narrowed my eyes and slammed the book I had been reading shut. "Since when do you give a shit about him anyway? Harry's better off without your capricious lot following him around. If you're so willing to abandon him over a _kiss_ –cheating or no- then you never deserved his friendship in the first. I tried to warn him in first year that there were certain witches and wizards who weren't worth his time, now he's seeing that for himself." I knew my words would sting her to the core, and I was glad for that. Harry truly did deserve better then the ragtag crew he had deemed his best friends, especially after they shunned him over a simple slip in judgment.

"You're a filthy Death Eater, Malfoy. If there is one person in this world who doesn't deserve Harry, it's you," she seethed. My eyes immediately flicked down to my tattoo, still thankfully covered and invisible. Apparently she'd just been making assumptions; regardless, the uncanny accuracy of her barb had shocked me – not that I would ever let her know that, of course - and it became my new mission to get her away from me as soon as humanly possible.

"Look, Granger, I don't know how to make this any clearer," I told her plainly. "Piss. Off. Harry is not your business anymore."

"I just want to know what you think you're doing with him," she pressed again, though clearly she already had her own ideas. I wasn't fueling her accusations one way or the other. "I've been watching you, Malfoy, and I know something is going on."

"Shall I write it down for you, would that make it easier for you to understand?" I wondered aloud, mocking the intelligence she was so persistent in showing off at every opportunity. I pulled a sheaf of parchment from my bag and began drawing a head –which may or may not have resembled Hermione's- giving oral stimulation to a large cock –which may or may not have been mine. With a silent spell I held up the drawing for her to see, knowing the head would be magically bobbing up and down on the illustrated cock by then.

Her face contorted into such a look of abject horror and disdain that I felt instantly sorry for Weasley if she looked at his penis that way whenever he got near her. Although, honestly the image scared me as well –I wouldn't want that freckled ginger prick anywhere near me either.

It took her a moment, but she finally regained a bit of her composure and leveled her gaze at me once more. I balled the drawing up and threw it in my bag, realizing that if I wanted to get out of this conversation I was going to have to play harder ball. "If you hurt him-" she began to say, but she wasn't permitted to finish.

"You'll what, Hermione?" a familiar voice sounded from behind me, I looked back to see Harry standing there and I wondered how much he had heard –or seen for that matter. I couldn't be sure how he'd feel about the illustration I'd made for Granger's eyes-only and I desperately hoped he hadn't seen what it was. I couldn't make out what she said, something about just wanting to make sure Harry was safe, or some other rubbish, before Harry continued. "What do you want?" he interrupted, seemingly more tired than angry.

"I'm just worried about what you're getting yourself into," she explained to Harry, suddenly ignoring my presence.

"If you were so worried, why didn't you ask me?" he asked her. "Why come to Malfoy? I was here with him only ten minutes ago."

"I-" she began, but then promptly snapped her mouth closed.

"You aren't allowed to check up on me behind my back," Harry told her, and I was so proud of him for standing up to her that I nearly beamed at him. "If you don't have the Gryffindor guts to face me then stay away. You either care about me or you don't, make up your mind and stick to it."

"Of course I care about you, I never stopped," she boasted, but I merely scoffed, not that it mattered since I was virtually invisible to the pair of them.

"Then you'll sit with me at breakfast? Talk to me in the common room?" he challenged. "Partner with me in Potions tomorrow morning?" My heart wrenched at the last one, wondering if she would agree and take Harry away from me as well. I suddenly realized that if Harry's friends were to offer an apology I would most likely find myself completely out of the picture.

"I can't," she gasped, or maybe she was crying, but I saw no tears. I felt no true remorse from her either, but apparently Harry did, although he stood his ground.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, it's all or nothing. Don't ask after me again unless you're willing to be the kind of friend I need," he told her, and then those brilliant green orbs were suddenly all for me. I had felt so long bereft of his attention while sitting right here that when it was finally directed at me I nearly gasped. "Malfoy and I might have been rivals at one point, and in a way we still are, but at least he never left me," he stated firmly, those eyes never leaving my own. Merlin, what I wouldn't give to have those eyes staring at me for the rest of my life. I was so transfixed that I barely noticed him take his book, but then he broke my gaze and turned back to Hermione one last time. "Goodnight, Hermione," he offered, but then faced me once more. "If she asks after me again, don't tell her anything," he told me. "I'll see you tomorrow."

I nodded dully, but he was already halfway out the door. When I turned back around, Hermione was eyeing me curiously. "What?" I asked somewhat defensively. I didn't like it when other people observed me that way. I knew the instant I saw her face that I had betrayed some softness that I hadn't meant to when Harry addressed me. It was as if nearly two decades of training myself to disregard emotions had flown out the window when I was with the haphazard Gryffindor. He was rubbing off on me, and not in the way I sometimes fantasized about.

"You actually… like him, don't you?" she asked, apparently baffled by the idea of a Malfoy having a heart that wasn't made of ice.

"Haven't you caused enough trouble?" I countered. If I was going to admit to some inane devotion to Harry Potter it was going to be to the Gryffindor boy himself, not his former gal-pal.

Granger rolled her eyes and stood up, crossing her arms over her chest. I thought she was going to leave, and it looked like she was about to, but she stopped right beside my chair and leaned in so close that I could smell her strawberry shampoo. "I hope you know what you're doing, Malfoy. His forgiveness is a difficult thing to earn," she informed me, obviously from personal knowledge of his character.

I simply sighed and waved her away, happy when she finally obliged me. She had a point though. If I were to truly win Harry over, I had better know what I was doing. If I betrayed him, I would never get another opportunity to claim his love.

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My dreams that night were plagued with Harry's disappointed face as I tried to repeatedly explain myself to him, but to no avail. He just kept repeating 'you betrayed me. How could you?' over and over until I woke up in a pool of sweat, my breathing erratic. Relief washed over me when I arrived at breakfast and spied the boy lingering in the doorway to the Great Hall.

"Good morning, Harry" I whispered in his ear, smiling when he turned to beam at me.

"Good morning," he replied easily, before his face broke into a slight wince. "I'm sorry about that Hermione thing last night."

"No problem, I can handle her," I replied with a shrug. "It was a bit unexpected though, wasn't it?"

"Not for her," he muttered, shaking his head as if dismayed by the whole situation. "It would have been more surprising if it had been Ron."

The thought of Weasley accosting me in the library filled me with laughter and I almost let it escape, but I refrained. It was bad enough that I showed open emotion for Harry when we were alone; it wasn't going to let it happen in public like this. "Do you think she'll try again?" I wondered aloud. I wasn't terribly put out last night but I didn't really need anymore of her uninvited insights ruining my sleep.

"She'll want to, and she might if the opportunity comes up, but I doubt it now that I've warned her off," he reasoned. "She'll wait until she can meet my conditions and she won't be able to do that unless she gets Ron on board too, and he's too stubborn to admit he might have taken things a bit too far."

That was an understatement. Still, I suppose I could understand family loyalty; purebloods tended to look out for their own. "Plus with his sister and everything," I sighed; I had heard a nasty rumor about the girl recently but I'd be damned if I passed that rumor on to Harry. It probably wasn't true anyhow. Karma couldn't possibly be that good. "Look, I know you liked them and everything, but you don't need them. Good riddance to them really if that's how they want it!" I told him honestly. He gave me a weak smile and I decided to drop the subject, sensing that he was uncomfortable. "Anyway, are you all ready for Potions this morning?"

"As ready as I'm ever going to be," he sighed. Harry's tone seemed heavier than it was when we talked the night before. I could tell something was weighing on him and I wished I knew what it was. "I'm still a bit fuzzy on why we need to do a half counter-clockwise stir before we add the liverwort, but I know that I have to do it and that's the main thing, right?"

I wanted to laugh, but I knew that would be discouraging. Harry was far cleverer than he gave himself credit for, but when it came to Potions he always put forth the minimum amount of effort to pass. "For now, yes, but I'll go over it with you again tonight," I offered.

"Hi."

The new voice caught me off guard and when I turned to see Corner standing there I nearly groaned aloud as I braced myself for another public argument. Didn't this boy understand that Harry was a very private person and didn't like his laundry –dirty or otherwise- aired for the rest of the school's population to see? Harry looked panicked and stammered a weak explanation for what he was doing standing here talking to the horrid and malicious Draco Malfoy, leaving me to once again fade into the woodwork. My only place with Harry was when we were alone, and every time I forgot that, something always managed to remind me.

"I know, I heard, you were talking about Potions," Mike replied, a sad smile on his face. Although I had to give the Ravenclaw credit; he didn't look angry. "Do you want to have breakfast with me?"

"Uh, sure," Harry agreed with a quick look around the room. "I'll see you later, Malfoy," he told me and I nodded curtly, watching the pair as they took their seats at an abandoned area of the Gryffindor table.

I eventually took my own seat and watched from afar as Harry's face lit up at some shiny happy news Corner had given him. They kissed, soft and sweet, and I felt as though my heart had been wrenched, still beating, from my chest and stomped on with a stiletto, piercing it and crushing it simultaneously.

I didn't have the appetite to eat breakfast as I watched their continued display of affection, obviously serving as foreplay for their highly anticipated weekend. In fact, I hadn't been eating well lately at all, which was no good because I was already on the thin side. A few skipped meals and I was a downright waif, luckily my robes hid most of it, but I was beginning to notice my face becoming pointier as I took in my reflection every morning in the bathroom mirror. For the sake of my health, I made it a point to try and keep something down today by trying not to look at the happy couple on the other side of the room.

Even though I kept trying to remind myself that it was all for the best, that Harry was better off far, far away from me, it still stung that he could be happy with someone else. I was quickly becoming enamored with the raven-haired boy and his split affection made my heart ache. Still, I supposed my own attention was split as I made my way to Potions that morning; part of it was locked on the happy couple walking slowly ahead of me, and the rest was wondering when I would have time to speak with Snape about the last note he'd left me. I needed a way out of it and if anyone could help me with that it was my Godfather; though not even he could delay Christmas holidays and even if I were to get out of a meeting with the Dark Lord now, it would surely happen then. I would simply be delaying the inevitable.

Perhaps I could simply tell Voldemort that I had failed, that Potter was too clever and refused to fall for my trickery. Then at least the evil wizard might kill me quickly, instead of dragging out the torture I seemed to be destined for.

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"I see a slight improvement from your remedial lessons with Mr. Malfoy," Snape noted as he surveyed the contents of Harry's cauldron that morning. It was perfect, the color a bright shade of lemon yellow –proof that Harry had been paying attention somewhat last night after all. Snape glanced up at me and I must have been looking rather proud, because he sneered at me and rolled his eyes. "I think lessons every evening from now until the holidays are in order."

"But, Professor, I thought you said I was improving?" Harry protested, his face obviously crestfallen from being assigned more alone time with me.

"And if I expect it to stay that way, we'll need to increase the frequency of your studying," he replied sharply.

"I have other classes too, you know," Harry muttered bitterly.

"Perhaps I should speak with those teachers so that you could study those lessons with Malfoy as well," he replied, eyes narrowed dangerously.

"That won't be necessary, Sir," I called across the room. "I only have so many hours of the day that I can devote to Potter."

"Very well," Snape replied, nodding curtly in my direction while Harry shot me an injured look. I returned my gaze to my own table, however, refusing to meet his. How he had the audacity to look offended toward me after having attempted to finagle his way out of spending more time alone with me, I didn't understand. What was good enough for Harry clearly wasn't good enough for me. He was allowed to publicly denounce our friendship, but I wasn't permitted to do the same? Hypocrite.

To a degree I could understand the 'friends in secret' bit –I didn't like it, but I understood it. Harry Potter becoming best mates with the Prince of Slytherin would surely be seen as the first horse of the apocalypse, but it didn't stop my heart from stabbing with pain at the idea that he was ashamed to be seen with me; so ashamed that he wouldn't even stand up to his boyfriend for me.

When the class was dismissed I tried to fly out the door before Harry could even gather his things, but I failed and he caught up to me quickly on the way to Divination. "Malfoy, what the hell is going on?" he hissed, pulling me by the sleeve of my robe into an empty alcove. Apparently he couldn't even be seen yelling at me in the corridor; oh how times have changed. "This morning you seemed nice enough and then suddenly in Potions you're back to your old insulting self."

"I didn't insult you, I merely helped you with the charade we've been upholding," I replied bitterly.

"What?" he asked, clearly confused and I shook my head.

"Just forget it, Harry. You've made it pretty obvious that you don't even want to try and be friends; you'd rather hide behind your boyfriend. But don't worry, I'm getting the message loud and clear, I'll stay away from you." I replied before pulling out of his grasp and continuing upstairs toward the Astronomy Tower.

"You're a right Prat, did you know that?" he called after me, running to catch up. "Just this morning Mike gave me permission to talk to you without him flipping out, and now you decide I'm suddenly not worth the effort?"

"That's wonderful," I replied sarcastically. "Now that your boyfriend is fine with it, we can actually be friends."

"It's not like that," Harry grumbled beside me.

"And for the record," I pressed on, ignoring his protest, "I _always_ thought that _you_ were worth the effort."

Harry paused for a moment, but I kept going, quickening my pace in the hope that I would be able to snag a seat in class where he couldn't follow. "Malfoy, stop!" he demanded, but I refused. He caught up with me again anyway and shoved me roughly against the wall, his fist wrapped firmly around my forearm. "Why are you pushing me away?"

"You're hurting me," I whispered and he instantly slackened his grip on my arms but I shook my head. "No, your actions are hurting me. You're going to be forced to choose between us and you're not going to choose me."

How could I choose him over my own family if he couldn't even choose me over Corner? But then, if I turned him over to Voldemort I might as well die next, because knowing that I had given up on the first person I had ever cared about outside of my own flesh would kill me. Here I was with a struggle over who to let die –myself and my parents or my crush- and Harry had already made his choice. He had already picked Corner over me. Why was I still so naively considering refusing the Dark Lord when I was nothing to Harry but a nuisance?

A flicker of understanding passed though his eyes but he shook his head. "I'm not choosing," he told me petulantly, as if he'd been told that he could either have his cake or eat it, but not both.

"You already have," I informed him and he winced slightly. "Listen, I can talk to Snape and have someone else assigned to tutor you. I'm sure there is someone else-"

"You don't want to be my friend," Harry stated, interrupting me. It was a question as much as it was a statement.

"I do," I objected. "I want to spend every moment of every day at your side. I want to be your friend, and your confidant and the person you think of first if you ever need help," I began and his grip on my arms tightened again as if forcing me to continue. "I want to hold you and love you, but I also want more than you can give me. I know you're bound to Corner, I know you love him, but I need more from you."

"I can't give you more than friendship," he replied after a moment, his voice slightly raspy.

"I know," I replied solemnly. "But I don't even get that."

He frowned down at my chin, his eye contact lost in the sharpness of my other facial features and he looked guilty, maybe torn, but he eventually shook his head. "I'll be a better friend," he promised and abruptly let my arms go. "Just don't abandon me."

I shouldn't have a heart left for as often as it crumbled and broke in Harry's presence, but yet again, here he was finding a way to make certain I couldn't say no. Why could I never manage to refuse this beautiful little orphan? Why did I always find myself promising the moon and the stars and other equally impossible things? If I agreed then I would be condemning myself to a lifetime of misery, following Harry and his boyfriend around like a lost puppy. "Okay," I whispered and his warm smile made all the wrenching pain I would feel soon enough seem worth it.

He roughly grabbed my wrist and pulled me up the stairs, shouting 'hurry, we're going to be late,' as he did. I followed quickly, knowing I had set myself up for heartbreak once again, but not managing to care while Harry's fingers touched my bare skin –no matter how chaste a gesture it was.

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We sat together in classes that day and the next, but soon enough it was Friday, and I knew what would be happening the next day. Who knew how Harry might feel about me once he finally sealed his relationship with Corner. I held out hope that nothing between Harry and I would change, but I knew that was naïve of me. If Corner had such a thorough control over the boy's actions now, who knew what would happen after they added sex to their pull for one another.

As I made my way up to the library, I heard Harry's voice in a hushed tone around the corner and paused, trying to make out what was being said.

"Look, I'm sorry. Snape is forcing this on me," he placated.

"I know, but why every night?" Corner whined.

"It's only until the holidays," Harry offered.

"That's still weeks away, Harry," Corner groaned, but took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Fine. I'm fine," he assured his boyfriend. "I just miss you."

"I miss you, too," Harry assured him and I could almost hear the rustle of their clothing as they embraced. I wanted to retch, but I refrained for fear of drawing attention to my presence.

"I bet Malfoy's loving this," Corner muttered bitterly.

"He actually stopped Snape from assigning more," Harry informed him. "I don't think he wants to be here either."

"Well, there is that at least," Corner replied, seemingly heartened by the fact that I was only begrudgingly spending time with his boyfriend. As I came around the corner I saw the Ravenclaw pressing Harry into the wall about to steal a kiss from him, but I couldn't bear to see them kiss one more time so I cleared my throat sharply to stop them.

"Are you ready?" I asked. "I'd like to get this over with."

"Er, yeah," Harry replied quickly, kissing Corner on the cheek and slipping out from under him. "I'll see you at breakfast, Mike," he told the boy before following me into the library.

"Did I act the part of the bitter ex-friend well enough?" I asked when we took our seats.

Harry visibly relaxed and let out a breath. "Is that what that was? I thought you were angry with me again."

"Should I be?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow at him playfully.

"Probably," he answered with a light shrug but shook his head in response to my questioning gaze. "I don't feel like talking about it," he admitted before opening his book.

"So, if he's okay with you being friends with me, then why all the cloak and dagger?" I asked.

"Because he's only partially okay with it and I'm trying not to push his buttons," Harry replied cautiously.

"And if he revokes his approval? If he makes you choose between us?" I asked, fearing the answer so much that my heart was racing. I already knew what he would do, but I wanted to hear the words from those perfect lips.

"I'm not going to think about that right now," he stated firmly, "and neither should you."

"If you say so," I replied with a shrug and launched into Monday's potion. We worked for a solid hour without bringing up anything non-Potions related. It wasn't until Harry yawned that I slammed the book closed and let my gaze linger on his. "You look tired," I mentioned.

"Thanks," he muttered sarcastically. "You look like you don't eat enough," he countered playfully. I knew he was just teasing but it still made me wince.

"I don't have much of an appetite lately," I admitted. "Are you not sleeping well?"

"Not really, I guess," he replied with a shrug. "But then that's nothing new."

"Too many fantasies of Corner keeping you up all night?" I joked, even though it made my heart jerk to say it.

"Something like that," he replied with a severe blush –the kind I rarely saw from him these days. I forgot how much I missed the delicate pinking of his cheeks. "Listen, Malfoy, we don't have to talk about him if it makes you uncomfortable."

I knew the 'him' Harry was referring to and I appreciated the consideration, but I was determined to be his friend, and if I wanted to be close to Harry I'd have to get comfortable talking about his relationship. "I'm fine," I lied.

"Well, I think it makes me uncomfortable," he admitted and tried to laugh it off. "It just doesn't feel right."

"Okay," I acquiesced, "though I was really looking forward to deep discussions concerning your love life with another boy," I teased.

"Hilarious," he replied with a soft smile curling at the edge of his mouth. "We should go. Pince will be tossing us out soon."

"You're probably right. So will I see you this weekend?" I asked as I gathered my things. I winced; nearly forgetting what he was planning this weekend.

"I don't know," Harry whispered, looking across the table at me and not letting me break our locked gaze. I wondered what was going on in his head in that moment, what blissful imagery was flitting through his mind while he looked at me instead of his boyfriend. Was he pretending I was him? Did he miss Corner that badly?

I sighed and steeled myself to the spot. I had to stop being so emotional, I had to stop letting my feelings dictate how I behaved. "Just… just be careful, alright?"

"I know what I'm doing," he replied firmly and I nodded in return. It wasn't my place, not even as his friend, to tell him not to sleep with Corner.

"Good," I replied before smoothing my fingers though his hair to end up cupping his jaw in my palm. "As your friend I wouldn't want you to get hurt."

"Mike wouldn't hurt me," he countered, pulling from my grasp, albeit reluctantly.

"Because I would kill him if he did," I promised, my throat making my tone more of a growl than I had intended.

Harry smiled across at me; his hand mimicking what mine had just done to his hair and face and his callused fingertips against my skin made me jump. "You don't have to worry," he told me gently, smiling at my reaction to his touch.

He left then; walking quickly passed me, but he looked back at me just before he disappeared and gave a slight nod of farewell as I tried to recover from the lingering feeling of his skin on mine. Suddenly it was all so clear to me; I needed to banish these feelings just as he had done. I was going to be a good friend to Harry, the kind he could count on; far better than Weasley and Granger had been, and even if Harry had to leave me behind for the sake of his relationship with Corner, I wouldn't fight him. I would be there if he needed me and I would stay away when didn't. That's what he deserved.

I would refuse Voldemort's request for Harry's head and I would die, if need be, to save his life. Because that's just what you do when you love someone.

Author's Note: Aw, poor seemingly unrequited love. Will Harry sleep with Mike or won't he? For those kind enough to review, we'll offer a sneak peek into the next chapter!


	14. Harry: Don't Think Too Hard

Author's Note: Laurel's turn! You all know the drill, review here or there or both!

Chapter 14 Harry – Don't think too hard.

I still felt like I was glowing from the conversation I'd had with Mike at breakfast. I hadn't been this happy in a very long time. Finally destiny was throwing me a bone, so to speak; both my boys, it finally looked like I could keep them _both_. I wouldn't have to choose after all. _Plus_ I was a genius. My potion was perfect, and I was looking over it proudly as Snape congratulated me in his own special Slytherin way; _you don't suck as much as you used to_. Yes, I was sure today was going to be wonderful.

"I think lessons every evening from now until the holidays are in order," Snape declared snapping me out of the fog I'd been happily drifting in. _Every evening?_ Mike was going to have a fit. He'd only just agreed to let me be friends with Malfoy and now I have to tell him I'm spending _every evening _with him!?

"But, Professor, I thought you said I was improving?" I asked, questioning his decision. Managing Mike and Malfoy together required a careful balance, one that could be knocked out completely by a development like this.

"And if I expect it to stay that way, we'll need to increase the frequency of your studying," he answered me coldly.

"I have other classes too, you know," I muttered to myself, wondering when I was supposed to finish the Transfiguration Report I was assigned yesterday if I was devoting all my spare time on Potions. I needed an 'O' in Transfiguration, too, if I was to get accepted into the Auror Program.

"Perhaps I should speak with those teachers so that you could study those lessons with Malfoy as well," he threatened. What was he doing? Why was he so keen to have Malfoy tutor me? Was he really just concerned with my grades, and he thought Malfoy was a good tutor? Did he think Malfoy bullied me during our study sessions?

"That won't be necessary, Sir," Malfoy spoke up from the other side of the room. "I only have so many hours of the day that I can devote to Potter."

His words felt like a slap in the face; for some reason he was back to calling me Potter. His mood swung like a pendulum, back and forth, hot and cold, and it shocked me every time. Snape might have accepted his reasoning, but I didn't. I tried to catch his eye to see if he was as angry with me as he sounded, but he refused to look at me. Something was definitely wrong.

Once class was over Malfoy tried to dash out the door before me and lose me as he nearly ran to Divination, but I stuffed my books carelessly in my bag and sprinted after him. "Malfoy, what the hell is going on?" I demanded to know. I was going to get a proper explanation this time because I was _done _putting up with his sudden bad moods. "This morning you were friendly and then suddenly in Potions you're back to your old insulting self again."

"I didn't insult you," he retorted. "I merely helped you with the charade we've been upholding."

"What?" I exclaimed quietly. _What charade?_

"Just forget it, Harry," he huffed shaking his head and stepping back from me. "You've made it pretty obvious that you don't even want to try and be friends; you'd rather hide behind your boyfriend. But don't worry, I'm getting the message loud and clear, I'll stay away from you."

He pulled away from me and stalked off, but I wasn't going to let him get away with an accusation like that. If Malfoy really believed that he was an idiot, and if he was just saying it to hurt me then he was _still_ an idiot. "You're a right prat, did you know that?" I shouted at him as I ran to catch up to him. "Just this morning Mike gave me permission to talk to you without him flipping out, and now you decide I'm suddenly not worth the effort?"

"That's wonderful," he drawled. "Now that your boyfriend is fine with it, we can finally be friends."

"It's not like that," I huffed, but I knew it was in a way.

"And for the record," he practically sneered at me. "I _always _thought that _you _were worth the effort."

I stopped dead in my tracks and opened my mouth to protest when my brain finally caught up with what he'd said, but by then he was starting to get away from me so I had no time to really think about it. "Malfoy, stop!" I called out to him trying to sound more angry than desperate, but he didn't heed me. I ran after him once again with several students watching our exchange with only mild interest; after all Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy having an argument wasn't exactly uncommon. Once I caught him again I grabbed him and shoved him roughly into the wall, and demanded, "Why are you pushing me away?"

"You're hurting me," he whispered to me gazing at me honestly and I instinctively loosened my grip on his arms. "No," he told me shaking his head. "Your actions are hurting me. You're going to be forced to choose between us and you're not going to choose me."

I blinked as I felt his words settle on my heart. "I'm not choosing," I said defiantly. I didn't have to choose anymore, Mike told me I could talk to Malfoy if I wanted to; we could still be friends.

"You already have," he insisted and the pain of hearing those words made me cringe. "Listen, I can talk to Snape and have someone else assigned to tutor you. I'm sure there is someone else-"

"You don't want to be my friend," I said, realizing it was true as I spoke the words aloud.

"I do," he corrected me. "I want to spend every moment of every day at your side. I want to be your friend, and your confidant and the person you think of first if you ever need help."

A desperate chill swept through my body as he spoke and my breathing became short and shallow. I _needed _to hear more and he obliged me.

"I want to hold you and love you, but I also want more than you can give me. I know you're bound to Corner, I know you love him, but I need more from you," he finished and the mention of my boyfriend seemed to clear my head. For a moment I had belonged to Malfoy, I was his, but then he reminded me that I, in fact, belonged to another.

"I can't give you more than friendship," I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady.

"I know," he nodded. "But I don't even get that."

I didn't understand why he insisted on us not continuing our friendship. Didn't he understand how important he was to me? Didn't he know how much I _needed _him? I frowned at his declaration and I knew I shouldn't ask this of him, he was hurting, but so was I. "I'll be a better friend," I promised, releasing him from my desperate hold. He had to choose to stay with me now; I couldn't force him. "Just don't abandon me," I pleaded.

I couldn't tell how he felt about my request, he was so stony-faced as he paused to consider me, but his features softened in defeat just before he sighed a pained 'okay'.

--

The rest of the week flew by because I had my Malfoy back at last. No more mood swings, no more cold shoulders, he sat with me every day and helped me study, and while I was with him I forgot about Mike and everything I had promised I would do with him this weekend. But Mike never forgot. He insisted on eating with me at every meal and he seemed to clutch tighter to me with each encounter, particularly if he had just rescued me from Malfoy. He was excited and, to him, Saturday couldn't come soon enough. I didn't mind though, I knew he loved me and I knew he'd treasure the gift I was giving him forever. What more could a person ask for?

Mike insisted on walking me to the library on Friday night where I'd arranged to meet Malfoy for another study session. He'd asked me earlier if I could cancel it just this once so we could be alone, but I told him I couldn't. I didn't want to.

"I was just kind of hoping it'd be you and me tonight, we could go for a walk or something," he sort of whined at me while he fingered the collar on my shirt. He'd backed me into the wall and had worked my lips over as though I were about to face Voldemort for the final time and now he was asking for more of me. Sometimes I wondered if anyone would be happy with just what I had to give, everyone seemed to want more, more, more – Gryffindor, my old friends and the rest of the world wanted me to be _more_ perfect, Mike wanted _more _time and _more _sex, and Malfoy just wanted _more _of me.

"Look, I'm sorry. Snape is forcing this on me," I replied, pleading him to be reasonable and keep his understanding outlook on the time I spent with Malfoy.

"I know, but why every night?" Mike complained, his childish whine more evident in his voice.

"It's only until the holidays," I said, trying to soothe him as I ran my fingers through his hair.

"That's still weeks away, Harry," he persisted before taking a deep, calming breath. "Fine. I'm fine. I just miss you," he sighed.

"I miss you, too," I assured him as I pulled him into my arms and he nuzzled into my neck possessively.

"I bet Malfoy's loving this," he commented sourly.

"He actually stopped Snape from assigning more," I said. I couldn't help but defend Malfoy against Mike's accusations. "I don't think he wants to be here either."

"Well, there's that at least," Mike sighed seemingly more relaxed. He leaned in to steal another kiss when I heard someone clear their throat from behind Mike, politely announcing their presence.

"Are you ready?" Malfoy asked as I looked up to where he stood a few metres away. "I'd like to get this over with."

"Er, yeah," I replied a tad taken aback at Malfoy's tone. We'd been getting along really well recently and I couldn't think what might have happened to upset him. I kissed Mike goodbye and told him I'd see him later before hurrying after Malfoy into the library to see if I could mend whatever rift we had going on this time.

"Did I act the part of the bitter ex-friend well enough?" he asked me cheekily as we sat down and I breathed a sigh of relief; he wasn't angry with me, he was pretending for Mike's sake.

"Is that what that was?" I replied. "I thought you were angry with me again."

"Should I be?" he asked, still smiling at me like a kid with his favourite toy.

"Probably," I shrugged, thinking of what I would be doing tomorrow; his words still rang in my ears; _for the right reasons with the right person_. "I don't feel like talking about it."

"So, if he's okay with you being friends with me, then why all the cloak and dagger?" he asked me.

"Because he's only partially okay with it," I told him truthfully, "and I'm trying not to push his buttons."

"And if he revokes his approval? If he makes you choose between us?" he asked me anxiously.

So we were back to that, were we? Why is it that just when I think we're moving forward I find that we are right back at the start with me standing there having to choose between two guys that I care about deeply?

"I'm not going to think about that right now," I answered, telling myself as much as him. "And neither should you."

"If you say so," he sighed, shrugging sadly. He moved on to our lesson quickly as if he were trying to do exactly as I told him to; forget about it.

I managed to lose myself in Malfoy's smooth voice as he explained out some of the finer points of the potion we would be brewing on Monday and before I really knew it we had been there for an hour. My body ached from stress and I yawned involuntarily.

"You look tired," he commented.

"Thanks," I replied teasingly. "You look like you don't eat enough."

"I don't have much of an appetite lately," he cringed as though I'd brought up something of a sore point. "Are you not sleeping well?" he asked, frowning with concern and taking the attention off of himself.

"Not really, I guess," I confessed. "But then that's nothing new."

"Too many fantasies of Corner keeping you up all night?" he quipped, but he winced as he said it as though it hurt him. I couldn't help but think that it wasn't Mike keeping me up at night like it should have been and I was thrown temporarily into the memory of a rather vivid dream I'd had recently of Malfoy sitting naked on the bench in Potions jerking off for me while I watched him.

"Something like that," I replied, blushing deeply. "Listen, Malfoy, we don't have to talk about him if it makes you uncomfortable."

"I'm fine," he assured me, but after that look he gave when he mentioned him I wasn't sure he was being completely truthful.

"Well, I think it makes _me_ uncomfortable," I replied, laughing lightly to soften the seriousness of our topic. "It just doesn't feel right."

"Okay, though I was really looking forward to deep discussions concerning your love life with another boy," he joked, picking up my light tone.

"Hilarious," I replied, smiling slightly. "We should go. Pince will be tossing us out soon."

"You're probably right. So will I see you this weekend?" he asked as we both packed up our books, he glanced up at me and I felt a pang in my heart.

"I don't know," I whispered keeping his gaze. I felt guilty about what I was planning to do with Mike, like I was betraying Malfoy by sleeping with my boyfriend; I knew he would get hurt and it killed me to think of it. Sometimes I felt like Malfoy was my boyfriend and not Mike, sometimes I even wished he was, and then I remembered what it would mean for us and I was glad to have Mike.

He took a deep breath as his stare bored a hole into my soul. "Just… just be careful, alright?"

"I know what I'm doing," I answered him sounding surer than I actually was. I needed to stop doubting this though, I needed to be sure because I needed to keep Mike to protect Malfoy, I knew my own strength of will would not be enough to keep us apart if Mike was no longer in the picture. Besides, Mike was a good guy, he wanted this and I should let him have it.

"Good," he said, still staring into my soul. His long fingers ran joyfully through my hair and traced adoringly down my jaw. "As your friend I wouldn't want you to get hurt," he told me, his hands cupping my face lovingly. His eyes said so much more about what he felt than his words ever could.

"Mike wouldn't hurt me," I assured him honestly, but I couldn't take his stare anymore and I pulled away. He'd never looked at me that way before, like he saw _all of me; _I felt naked in front of him, like I had nowhere to hide.

"Because I would kill him if he did," he growled protectively clenching his fists slightly as he said it. I couldn't help but smile in my joy at these words and the realization that I loved him. Yes, I am finally admitting it. I love Draco Malfoy. He has seen me, he saw me, all of me, and he still wanted me.

But what could I do? If he chose me he would have to switch sides in this war, I would need him standing beside me and for him that would mean standing across from his parents as they stood with Voldemort. He would have to fight them. My heart broke a little as I thought of what that would cost him. I couldn't do it.

"You don't have to worry," I told him softly as I caressed his face. _I will protect you, even from me. _

He jumped at my touch and I smiled a little, loving the fact I could elicit such a reaction from a small gesture. I slung my bag over my shoulder and looked back at him one last time before nodding and leaving the library.

The next time I saw him I would be a man.

--

I was warm underneath my blankets but I was not comfortable. This was the fourth time I'd woken in the night and each time I could have sworn I'd slept for three days I was so wide awake, I'd been trying to drop back to sleep for fifteen minutes already and it simply wasn't happening. I stared wide-eyed at the canopy over my bed and I felt nauseous when I thought about what I was going to do today; what I was going to give away and who I was giving it to. I'd never really valued my virginity, I never thought of it as some divine gift that I had to be careful parting with. I wasn't going to just fuck the first dick that came along, but I never thought I was going to be particularly choosey about it. Why was I so nervous all of a sudden? Mike was a good guy, he loved me, he certainly wasn't the sort to sell the story to the papers afterwards ... so why did this feel so wrong? It didn't matter to me really; it didn't _mean_ anything ... did it?

It meant something to Malfoy. He wanted to be my first and I knew now he didn't want it just to add to his list of life achievements; he wanted to look after me, take me lovingly and carefully. I wanted that, too but there was too much in the way, too much at stake for him and for me if I gave my heart away. Besides, Mike would take care of me; he would love carefully me while we explored each other completely.

I groaned at the internal battle that raged within me; heart vs. head. I couldn't stand it anymore and I decided I wasn't going to lie here and let my thoughts give me a migraine. I needed to do something, get away from here, and just escape my life for a while. I needed to _fly. _

_-__-_

As I gripped my broom in my hand and walked out into the frozen air around the Quidditch Pitch I began to wonder when the last time I flew was. It had felt like _years _since I'd been on this thing, but really it had only been a few weeks; after my life fell apart I just never felt like flying and, given the general opinion of Harry Potter among my fellow Gryffindors, I thought perhaps I'd end up beaten to death by bludgers if I continued to play Seeker so I quietly dropped out of the team. I say 'dropped out' but really I stopped going to practice and they got a new Seeker – Ginny actually, and boy wasn't she smug about that.

Truth is, I hadn't thought about Quidditch or flying in weeks and I suddenly felt my insides ache from how much I missed it.

I leapt on to my broom - my old friend, my Firebolt - and took off up into the air. I breathed the freedom of the act into my lungs and I felt my elation fill me right down to my toes and the tips of my fingers. The darkness of the early morning felt like a protective blanket that would hide me if someone passed by. I wanted this to be private, I was getting to know myself again, getting to know my Firebolt; this was nobody's business but my own.

As the darkness began to break around me, vibrant colours streaked across the sky - pinks, yellows, and soft oranges announced the arrival of a new day and I felt more alive than I could ever remember feeling. I had been happy in Gryffindor with my friends, but now I was happy just for me. I was making my own happiness and I no longer felt dependent on anybody. This was my life - my rules - my happiness. Everybody else could just fuck off.

I loved to fly and I couldn't believe I'd forgotten how much, I would never let myself forget again. I never wanted to come down, I wanted to feel like this forever, but alas forever is impossible and after countless hours enjoying the feeling of flying and of the freedom it brought me, fatigue and hunger forced me down.

I took my time in the shower soothing my aching muscles underneath the hot spray and stretching out my arms and neck under the warmth. By the time I had dressed and put away my broom it was just before ten o'clock and reality had started to sink in and I remembered that while flying always made me feel unburdened, the feeling never lasted once my feet were on the ground again. I was supposed to meet Mike for breakfast and I hadn't gone. I wondered how much trouble I was in.

I made my way slowly up to Ravenclaw Tower knowing I was going to have to get down on my knees and beg for Mike's forgiveness. I could hardly believe myself that I'd shown up late for this particular date together, the date where we sealed our relationship and I didn't turn up on time. I reached the door with the brass knocker sooner than I would have liked and I remembered at once that to enter Ravenclaw I would have to answer a question – damn, I was always terrible at these things.

"Good morning, you aren't a Ravenclaw," the knocker observed.

"Good morning," I greeted back; I'd always found it paid to be nice to the portraits and statues because if they liked you they were often nice back and it came in handy. "No, I'm not a Ravenclaw."

"No matter," the knocker dismissed my belonging to another house easily. "Are you ready for your question?"

"Sure," I replied, not feeling ready at all.

"One night a King, a Queen, a Princess and a Prince all sat in a boat. Before long a large wave came along and knocked the King, Queen, Princess, and Prince out of the boat. Who was left in the boat?" the doorknocker asked me.

_Who was left? Nobody. What sort of question is that?_

"Nobody, the boat would be empty," I answered.

"Incorrect," it told me sharply, then fell silent.

_Incorrect? There wasn't anybody else in the stupid boat!_ Damn. Mike was going to kill me. I said the riddle to myself again, but it still didn't make any sense.

Part of me was thinking 'oh well, you tried' and urging me to retreat, while the other part knew my life wouldn't be worth living if I didn't meet up with Mike today; he would skin me alive. I tried knocking on the door myself and hoping somebody would answer, but the only response I got was a sharp telling off by the brass idiot asking me stupid questions about royals in a boat.

"Having problems, Harry?" I heard someone ask from behind me and I turned to face a tall sandy haired boy I didn't recognize.

I frowned. "Yes, I'm trying to visit Michael Corner and I'm having some difficulty with the question," I told him and he smiled at me. I wondered how I knew him.

"We haven't met," he reassured me with a smile as if reading my mind. "You're famous remember, everyone knows you."

"Oh, right," I said, blushing slightly, but also feeling slightly annoyed at his familiar greeting considering we'd never met before.

"Question please," he spoke at the knocker this time and the question was repeated.

"One night a King, a Queen, a Princess and a Prince all sat in a boat. Before long a large wave came along and knocked the King, Queen, Princess, and Prince out of the boat. Who was left in the boat?"

"The Knight, of course," the boy answered and the door swung open for him. "Come on in, I'll fetch Mike for you," he said as he waved me in.

"The Knight?" I scoffed. "I don't get it."

"Say the riddle out loud to yourself, Harry, the answer is in the question," he said with a soft smile. "Sometimes the most obvious answer is right in front of you, when you think about it too hard or too logically that's when things get confusing and you end up making a mistake."

The boy's words sank into my heart heavily, like they held more meaning than the Ravenclaw had intended when he said them. "I'll remember that," I replied and he disappeared up the stairs to fetch Mike for me.

"Harry!" Mike exclaimed when he saw me waiting in the Ravenclaw common room, which was unlike my Gryffindor common room, with far more bookcases and study tables than we had. "Where have you been? Why weren't you at breakfast?" He didn't seem too upset, my guess would be that I may not have been at breakfast but Malfoy was, so at least he knew I wasn't with his Slytherin competition.

"I just needed to clear my head so I went flying," I told him as I reached over to grasp his hand and pull him closer to me.

"That's okay, but you should have told me," he replied softly but sternly. "I was starting to think you'd had second thoughts." I hesitated in my response. Truthfully, I had been having second thoughts, and Mike picked up on my apprehension. "Harry, what's the matter? Are you nervous?" he asked me gently.

"Er-" I mumbled, biting my lip and avoiding his gaze as I looked to the floor.

"Aw," he cooed as he ran his fingers through my hair. I didn't like it; Malfoy had done that to me yesterday and Mike's fingers just didn't feel right after that. "You are so beautiful," he said to me like I was some kind of adorable kitten.

He tugged on my hand and led me up the stairs he had just descended from when I arrived. They wound upwards just like the steps to my own dorm room did and when we entered his room I found it remarkably similar to my own except for the navy blue and bronze colours decorating it, rather than my own red and gold. He directed me to a bed I assumed to be his and pushed me to sit down on the edge of it before he swung his legs over mine and straddled my lap.

"Don't be nervous, Baby," he said to me as he stole a kiss from my lips. "I'll take good care of you."

I just nodded at him. I was still unsure if this was what I wanted, but it seemed to be happening anyway and I didn't know how to stop it and ask for more time. He kissed me again and this time slipped his tongue into my mouth; I could only wonder if Malfoy tasted different from Mike. He pulled my shirt over my head and ran his fingers over my chest and I could only wonder if Malfoy's hands would feel like that. And when he unbuttoned my jeans and slipped them down my legs, all I could think about was Malfoy and I was starting to panic.

"You _are _nervous, aren't you?" he asked me, sounding a little surprised. I looked down at him as he kneeled at my feet staring at my mostly flaccid cock. I was a bit surprised myself, Mike had always gotten me hard before with no problems. "Never mind, I know how to get you all relaxed," he said as started licking at my limp cock.

_Oh, yes. _He did know how to do that so well. I felt myself start to harden under his attentions and then I wondered what Malfoy was doing right now and I felt a sharp pang of guilt. My cock stopped responding and Mike pulled away and glanced up at me looking concerned. "Baby, you aren't enjoying this are you?" he asked me.

"I'm just nervous like you said," I replied, immediately cursing myself for not taking the out he just offered me. But he looked so worried, even a little hurt, I didn't know what else to say; this was the least I could do for him, wasn't it? If he couldn't have my heart, he could have my virginity.

"Would it help if I let you top first?" he asked me as though it were a given I'd be the bottom. I don't remember talking about that.

"Yeah, that'd help," I agreed and Mike smiled and went back to licking at my cock. I pushed thoughts of Malfoy out of my head as much as I could and just laid back and enjoyed the attention I was getting, but I still felt him hovering at the edge of my mind.

Mike was getting aroused sucking me off, I could tell from the small whimpers of pleasure he was emitting as he stroked himself gently while he sucked. "Hmm, Harry I can't take it anymore," he announced, pulling up from me and quickly removing his clothes until he was as naked as the day he was born. He crawled up to the bed and lay down on his back with his arse closest to where I was sitting. "There's lube in the top drawer, slather up your fingers and start stretching me out," he requested and it took me a moment to respond but he didn't notice my pause.

I nodded silently and made my way over to the drawer to fetch the lubricant, which I found easily, it was nearly empty and it made me wonder how often he'd used it. Although I couldn't talk really, I used a fair bit of the stuff myself. I did as he told me and slicked up my fingers with the clear substance, before taking a deep breath and rubbing at his entrance. He moaned for me and I started to push my index finger inside of him, but not fast enough for his liking obviously as he pushed back on me.

"You don't have to be too gentle, Harry," he panted sharply. "I've done this to myself before so I'm use to it."

_He's done it to himself? What an eager little beaver he was … _I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

I pulled my finger out of him and pushed back in again, not as slowly as before, and after it was apparent he was practically fucking my solitary finger, I added another, and then another. He was panting and moaning for me like he'd never been touched before, and I was actually heating up myself just watching him.

"God, Harry, please," he begged me. "I can't wait anymore! Fuck me please! You have to do it now!"

Those words made me tense, but I kneeled at his entrance like a good boyfriend should. Here I was at the point of no return, once I was inside him I would no longer be a virgin; he would have that part of me and he'd keep it forever. I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff and I was supposed to jump off.

"Stop teasing me, Harry," he pleaded. "Please!"

_Sometimes the most obvious answer is right in front of you, when you think about it too hard or too logically that's when things get confusing and you end up making a mistake._

I couldn't do it. I couldn't jump.

"I'm ready, what are you waiting for?" he asked me sounding confused, annoyed and concerned all at once.

I sat back on my heels away from him. "I can't do it," I whispered.

"What?" he gasped, almost horrified as he sat up to face me. "What do you mean?"

"I'm sorry," I pleaded to him. "I'm not ready."

He looked pained like I'd pinched his cock right before he came to delay his climax. "Well, um – that's okay. We can wait a bit longer if you need to," he offered, not really sure of what he was saying, but apparently knowing that was all he _could _say short of demanding me to fuck him.

"Mike, you know I care about you, don't you?" I asked him sincerely. I was suddenly aware of how _naked _I was and I desperately wanted my clothes back. Mike looked at me suspiciously, like he knew I was leading up to something but he wasn't sure what. When he didn't answer me I got up off the bed and grabbed my jeans. "It's just that certain things are supposed to happen for the right reasons," I said repeating Malfoy's words from days before as I pulled my clothes back on, "with the right person."

Mike looked on panic stricken and horrified at what I was obviously saying. I felt so guilty, like an uncertain groom who'd led his bride right up to the altar before he told her he didn't love her and couldn't marry her. "The right person, as in not me, right?" he choked out. He looked angry and intensely hurt, I wasn't sure if he was going to kill me or cry.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to him again. I was fully clothed now and he still sat naked in the middle of his bed trying to pull the sheets up to cover himself.

"It's that fucking Slytherin _arsehole_, isn't it!?" he screamed at me. Apparently he'd chosen an emotion; scream first, cry later. "You _love _him, don't you? You love him and you don't love me!"

"Mike," I pleaded to him, although I wasn't sure what I was asking him for. Perhaps for him to be reasonable, not that I had any right to expect it after what I did.

"I'm _such_ an idiot! You never did love me, did you?" he spat at me. "I knew you wanted him, but I ignored it. I didn't want to believe it. _Fuck you!_" he screamed, picking up the jar of lubricant I used to … let's not think about that anymore. He threw it at my head and I only just ducked out of the way. "Get out! I hate you! I never _ever _want to see you again!"

"_I'm sorry,_" I said, begging for his forgiveness. I hated that I hurt him so much.

"GET OUT!"

I did.

--

As I let myself out of the Ravenclaw common room all I wanted to do was see Malfoy. _Don't think too much_, I told myself, remembering the words of Mike's sandy-haired housemate. I wanted Malfoy, he was my answer, right in front of me; I was so excited I couldn't wait to tell him, to kiss him, to taste him at last. I still felt bad about Mike, but I could feel fully now, as I stopped holding myself back, just how deeply I was in love with my former enemy.

I started to make my way down to the dungeons when I noticed my fingers were still sticky from Mike's lube and his arse. Ew. I should shower before I see Malfoy, it's rather poor form jumping into the arms of your new lover when you still had your old lover's arse on your fingers. At this thought I diverted my path towards Gryffindor Tower so that I could shower and change before making my way to Slytherin dorms.

I was so excited I practically bounced up the stairs to my dorm, and twitched the whole time I showered. I primped myself for longer than I ever have in my life, fixing my hair four times before I reminded myself he already knew my hair grew like a bird's nest. I was starting to get nervous now as the adrenalin from my love epiphany wore off.

Finally I decided I was ready to meet my true destiny – being Malfoy's lover (none of this Voldemort prophecy shit) – and I headed downstairs and into the common room where I saw something I don't think I'd ever seen before in my life; Ronald Weasley crying into his hands.

"What happened?" I asked urgently, all thoughts of our previous arguments vanished from my mind. I thought for sure someone had died and panic gripped my heart as I thought of all the possibilities; Mr. or Mrs. Weasley, or maybe Charlie had been eaten by a dragon, or one of the twins blew themselves up with their stupid experiments.

"_You!_" Ron growled as he looked up at me. The first word he'd spoken to me in weeks. "You _fucking arsehole!_" he screamed as he launched himself out of his chair and flew at me red in the face with pure rage. I'd never seen him so angry before. I didn't even have time to move before I felt the floor crack the back of my head as I stared at the ceiling. My jaw started throbbing and as I saw his mass of red hair looming over me I realized he'd just punched me and knocked me to the ground. "She's only fifteen!" he screamed at me. I had no idea what was going on. "Get up and fight me you faggot!"

"What?" I groaned. My jaw ached and I could feel it bruising.

"I'll fucking kill you!" he shouted at me and I could see people starting to gather around us. I pulled myself up off the floor and gently rubbed my tender cheek, opening and closing my mouth to see how much pain I was in; not much, thankfully, although it still ached and I could taste blood in my mouth where I'd bitten the inside of my cheek open –it was bound to hurt worse later.

I looked in Ron's raging blue eyes and I could summon no energy to fight him. My heart felt like it was hanging from a thread and if he pushed me far enough I thought it might break entirely; he still felt like my best friend and I still remembered all the adventures we'd shared, that's all I wanted to remember about him, not the weeks he'd been ignoring me. But it seemed all he wanted to do was punch me again.

"Fight me you coward!" he demanded. If he wanted to punch me, he should just do it. I wasn't going to hit him; I had no reason to. "Take responsibility for your actions!"

"I have no idea what I've done," I replied honestly, no anger in my tone, just fatigue. "Unless this is some kind of delayed reaction to the fight we've been having the last few weeks."

"Ginny's pregnant, Harry," Hermione explained to me looking disappointed like _I'd _done something wrong. Jesus, _I _wasn't pregnant! What's this got to do with me!? As if reading my mind she continued her explanation. "She's eight weeks along."

"Eight weeks?" I repeated and Hermione nodded. Ron just seemed to get redder. "But we only broke up six weeks ago."

"Congratulations, _Daddy_," Ron hissed at me spitefully.

"But I can't be," I gaped. "I never slept with her."

"_Bullshit!_" Ron accused.

"I'm fucking _gay, _Ron! She begged me to; I couldn't even get it up for her!" I spat back at him, finally feeling a shred of the anger he wanted me to; it was the truth, she was always at me to sleep with her but I never wanted to. "It's fucking impossible!"

There was a murmur of realization sweeping through the crowd as I was suddenly hit with the full force of what I was hearing. Ginny had cheated on me – she _fucked _somebody else and now she was pregnant. She ruined my whole life because I _kissed _someone else while she was _fucking _God knows whobehind my back.

I heard Ron whisper, "Oh my God," and his face was as white as a sheet. He looked like he was about to faint. Hermione must have thought so too because she guided him gently to the nearest couch to sit down. She looked over at me with desperation and hurt as she too realized what had happened. Ginny had played us all.

In that moment I was finally able to see the whole truth of the situation. I wasn't a bad person, I was a gay boy who out of fear and obligation fell into a relationship with a girl I didn't love and who didn't love me back. My time with Mike allowed me to explore what was only natural to me, and the fallout of my actions was as indicative of my life as they were devastating. I had been living a lie in my sexuality, in my relationship with Ginny and in the small family I had made out of my friends; my whole world felt fabricated, except one thing. The only thing that had been consistently real in my life had been Draco Malfoy. Right from the moment I met him in Madam Malkin's Dress Shop. He was the first boy I met that spoke to me like I wasn't a freak, the only boy who didn't treat me like I was fragile and incapable, the boy who challenged me, demanded more of me, better of me, the first person to tell me that what I had done wasn't terrible, and didn't warrant the reaction I got. He stood by me when I had no one and he showed me that I was worthy of a life that wasn't falsified. A life that was as real as what I felt for him and him for me. I had been a fool to deny him thus far and I intended to rectify that immediately.

I flew out the portrait hole as fast as my legs would carry me, ignoring everybody else as I shoved through them. I could already hear the rumours of Ginny's betrayal and her current predicament sweeping through the crowd, by evening the whole of Hogwarts would know and I couldn't care less. My focus was on reaching the perfect blonde boy I knew was waiting in the dungeons for me – even if he didn't know it yet.

I heard one of the professors screaming at me not to run as I sprinted down the corridor. The air blew through my hair and for a split second I wondered what Malfoy would think of me all windblown and bruised turning up to steal his heart and give him mine.

I banged on the section of wall I knew was the entrance to Slytherin as loudly as I could and tried to wait patiently as a small child opened the door for me. "I want to see Draco Malfoy," I demanded panting slightly after my vigorous run.

"Malfoy?" the boy whimpered, obviously wondering if he should tell me to bugger off or go and fetch him.

Malfoy must not have been far away as he appeared behind the boy almost immediately. "Potter, what are you doing harassing my housemates?" he asked me lightly, almost teasing, but I could tell he was surprised at my being there. He should be, for all he knew I was up in Ravenclaw Tower fucking Mike's brains out. Before I could respond he had spotted my blooming purple bruise and stepped out into the hall looking concerned, but murderous. "Did he hit you?" he growled, obviously referring to Mike.

"Ron," I said simply, not wanting to explain. I had more important things to say to him, but I couldn't seem to find the words. I felt like I was looking at him for the first time; like I'd seen him nearly everyday for the past six years but I hadn't really _seen_ him. He was beautiful and his presence overwhelmed me, and I had to take a deep breath to steady myself and focus my thoughts.

"Are you okay?" he whispered to me tenderly, his fingers trailing feather light along the bruise on my face. "What happened?"

_Everything, _I thought. Everything has happened, the start of my life, the start of my happiness. _You_ have happened to me. Hard as I tried to say this in a way that didn't make me sound like a lovesick fool, I couldn't manage to do anything but smile at him; an uncontrolled, genuine smile.

His eyes glittered and he stood up taller, almost defensively, as if he were trying to protect himself and his heart from the hope I saw flaring within him. He wouldn't need to protect himself anymore, he could have all of me if he wanted it and I hoped he saw that with his searching grey gaze. "Draco," I pleaded in a breathy whisper; it felt so good to say his name at last, I didn't have to protect myself from what it meant; that we were on a first name basis – he wasn't Malfoy anymore, he was my _Draco_. I stared at him intensely. I just wanted him to take me, I didn't want to explain it, words were too complicated right now, I just needed him to know that I was his and I needed him to love me in any way he wanted.

He seemed to understand me and he pulled me roughly into his arms kissing me with all the desperation I felt. Finally I got to taste him and it was sweeter than I could have ever hoped for, I eagerly invaded his mouth with my tongue, ignoring the protests my newly bruised jaw was giving me. My heart thumped wildly in my chest and I felt electric energy crackling in my stomach and spreading through my limbs. Oh God, and this was only our first kiss! I remembered what Draco had said to me only a week ago when I'd sent him that note, _Can you imagine what that passion could feel like if we let ourselves explore it?_ Oh boy, could I imagine it now!

I moaned pleasurably as he tried to pull me closer to him, he was fisting my clothes and almost undressing me in the corridor as he tried to lift me up into him. But I had happily lost myself in the passionate fog I felt swirling around us and it wasn't until I heard someone speak that I remembered where we were.

"Piss off," I heard someone hiss. "You're too young to see this!" Then I heard a prepubescent voice complain as they were obviously shoved away.

It almost hurt to pull myself away from Draco, but I did it out of necessity; although I didn't let go of his hand. He whirled around on his housemates – there were at least twenty of them, maybe more, watching us kiss for the first time – he looked furious.

"Why don't you _all _piss off," he growled. "Bunch of perverts," he muttered to himself as he turned and pulled me away from the gathering crowd. I followed along behind him willingly with a smile so big it made my still tender jaw ache again, but I didn't care. I was in love.

Author's Note: All I can say is "Finally" and nanner nanner Draco won!! lol Would you all like another preview?


	15. Draco: I'd Rather Be

Author's Note: Thanks to Laurel and Robert for beta reading this chapter. And it's my turn again!!!

15-Draco- I'd Rather Be

Saturday. Virginity. Sex. Love. Harry Potter. Michael Corner -all things I didn't want to think about today but couldn't seem to avoid. Mere hours ago I had been enjoying Harry's company during our tutoring sessions while simultaneously wallowing in my own self-pity. Now I was just down to the latter.

How could he give himself over to another boy when there was obviously something between us? How could I actually expect him _not_ to? I was so terribly conflicted over the entire situation; not my feelings for Harry, no those were solid and true even if they were based on a false beginning. Rather, I was feeling conflicted over what to do _about_ my feelings for him. Just the very fact that I even _had_ feelings for Harry meant that I was no longer a Malfoy. I might as well be stripped of my trademark white-blond hair since I was clearly no longer my father's son.

Try as I might I couldn't banish my love for Harry into some box that I could simply lock away in the dark; not, this emotion – unlike those before it – refused to be sent away in such a manner. Part of me hated it; the way my love for him slinked through my veins like some foreign toxin, and part of me wanted more - craved the warmth it filled me with in spite of being unrequited. How anyone could live years, or even decades, with such a mournful love life was beyond my grasp. I was only a few weeks in and already I felt like throwing myself from the Astronomy Tower, figuring it would be far better a fate than letting my affection for Harry rip away everything I used to find familiar.

Upon entering the Great Hall for breakfast I searched for Harry's beautifully familiar face only to find him absent from his usual solitary place at the Gryffindor table. I couldn't help but wonder if Harry was missing because he was already cleverly seducing Corner in his dorm.

As my eyes flicked to the Ravenclaw table to see Corner sitting alone I realized they must be meeting up later. I was both relieved and sickened by this thought. Corner's eyes met mine briefly and he seemed relieved, as if his mind had been forming all sorts of scenarios for why Harry and myself would both be missing from breakfast. Unfortunately, none of his twisted assumptions were true. I had slept alone, woken up alone, showered alone and even made the journey to the Great Hall utterly and completely _alone_. I nodded briefly in his direction, wanting to keep the peace as much as possible. I didn't care if the boy liked me or not, but I didn't want him changing his mind about letting Harry be friends with me because, above all else, I wanted Harry to be happy; a feat which would have been impossible if Corner and I continued to openly hate one another. The least I could do was _pretend_ to be cordial towards him.

Nott was whispering heatedly with another Slytherin when I got to our table; I couldn't make out what they were saying but it seemed rather scandalous. However, based on how closely Pansy was listening in, I could tell it would take no time at all before whatever they were discussing privately would become public knowledge.

"What are you going to do?" the fourth year asked, loud enough for me to hear when I took my seat.

Theo scanned our little group to see who was listening in, but eventually just sighed and slumped further in his chair as if resolved to the fact that everyone would know soon enough anyway. "Father says I'm going to have to marry her and I had better be grateful she's a pureblood, even though she _is_ a blood traitor. At least the child will be pure and not some tainted half-breed."

"That's big, Theo," the boy exclaimed, shaking his head.

"Tell me about it," Nott sighed. "I don't even like her that much, she was just decent shag and now I'm stuck with her for the rest of my life," he grumbled.

I tuned the conversation out, hoping they weren't talking about the redheaded harpy I suspected they were. Rumors had been circling in our camp over the last few days that Ginevra was pregnant but I had no idea it had been Theo's. It would serve the bitch right if she had to marry someone who didn't even care about her after what she'd done to Harry. I didn't dare tell Harry of course, because that might harm him beyond emotional repair: hurting Harry was the absolute last thing I wanted to do right now. However, an unexpected smile curled on my face when I imagined Weasley's reaction to the news as he realized his precious little sister was a Slytherin-loving slut.

Breakfast was over too soon; I would have rather remained in the Great Hall all day if it meant I could keep an eye on Corner to make sure he kept his filthy paws off of my Harry. The Gryffindor really did deserve so much better than that tool of a Ravenclaw, even if it wasn't me; Harry deserved an equal, and Corner, though obviously adoring, was by no means as perfect or as powerful as Harry Potter. But then, perhaps I wasn't either; Merlin knew I had my own flaws not so far under the surface of this new man I was becoming. The Dark Mark, carefully concealed under a layer of Vanishing Cream and a long robe sleeve, was indicative of that fact.

As predicted, the Slytherin common room was abuzz with the news of Nott's little slip - well, big slip actually - but for the most part I tuned it all out. I thought briefly about hiding away in my room, but the chatter and gossiping was the exact distraction I needed –even if I wasn't actually listening to it. It might even keep me from storming up to the Ravenclaw dorms to pull Harry out of Corner's arms myself.

The distraction only helped a little however, since I couldn't care less about any of the details and tuned the gossipmongers out, thoughts of what Harry was up to right then filling my mind. I could envision his sun-kissed form writhing on royal blue sheets, calling out Corner's name through swollen and abused lips. It was making my entire body shudder with revulsion to think of _my_ Harry in another's bed, but I couldn't seem to banish the thoughts.

I got up from my spot on the sofa, ignoring the eyes watching my retreat, and headed for my own room, hell-bent on finding something in my collection of potions that would help me block this day out through blissfully empty slumber. My hand was on the doorknob when I heard a persistent and violent knocking at the common room door. Normally I wouldn't give such an intrusion a second thought, but something stuck me to the place while Norman Scuttlebaum, a second year who was quite terrified of me and my family's reputation, went to answer it.

I couldn't hear the person asking, but when the young boy repeated that they were requesting me, I flew across the room as fast as my legs would carry me, hoping against hope that it was the only person I wanted to see. I wasn't let down. Harry stood there looking disheveled even in the shadow of the dungeon corridor, but regardless of his state he had the widest smile I'd ever seen planted on that beautiful face of his.

Had it already happened? Was he coming to cruelly rub it in? No, that wasn't Harry's style; he wasn't spiteful or mean like so many of the people in my life. Harry was lovely and pure and far too good for me. It was obviously something else that drove him to my door, panting like he had run through the entire castle to get here.

"Potter, what are you doing harassing my housemates?" I teased, trying to study his expression and discern his reason for trekking all the way down here to ask after me. It was only then that I took a step forward into the hall and noticed the already purple bruise shading his otherwise perfect jaw. "Did he hit you?" I demanded with a growl, ready to Cruciatus that arsehat of a Ravenclaw into insanity; no one hurt my Harry and lived to speak of it. No one.

"Ron," he replied simply, as if it were nothing at all to tell me his former best friend had inflicted such a wound. My vengeance, however, simply shifted faces as I imagined Cursing a redhead instead of a brunet.

"Are you okay?" I asked quietly, my fingers automatically going to the afflicted jaw as if my touch alone could heal him. I wanted so desperately to help him, but I still didn't even know why he was here and not with his boyfriend. I didn't understand the sudden shift in events; Harry had _never_ come calling on me at the Slytherin dorms before. I was unprepared for the unprecedented nature of his visit. "What happened?"

I got no response, just a set of gleaming emerald eyes staring back at me, as if willing me to invade his mind and pull out what he wanted to say aloud. The pieces clicked together for me at once, the fight, which had no doubt happened because of the very news that every Slytherin in the common room was currently gossiping about. The afflicted jaw must have been Weasley jumping to conclusions about the baby's paternity, but even before I heard the baby was Nott's I knew it wasn't Harry's. No doubt Weasley would have worse in store for the _real_ father on their next run-in, though it looked like the brunt of the boy's anger had been taken out on Harry's poor jaw.

My first instinct was to carry the boy off to see Pomfrey, but he looked so vulnerable and happy just standing there in the Slytherin doorway that I could do nothing but stare back. That was, until I saw the spark in Harry's bright eyes. Something had changed; something was vastly different than it was last night, or perhaps even just twenty minutes ago. There was clearly some reason he had run to me with his injury and not his boyfriend but I didn't dare make assumptions that could very well be wrong; I couldn't stand the hurt - I'd already endured so much. Still, Harry seemed determined, bold, and looked almost hungry as he stood there in front of me, his emerald gaze locked on my own.

I didn't know what to say or do, his silence was killing me as my mind clutched onto the hope that Harry had come _for me _and not for my protection from some Gryffindor bully. I wanted to violently squash the hope I felt, I hated it for getting me so riled up again, but when Harry whispered my name I felt hope tighten its hold on me and I knew I'd never be released, and I didn't want to be.

"Draco."

Hearing Harry speak my name for the first time meant so much and I would move the heavens just to hear the almost reverent way in which it fell from his beautiful lips. I knew it was bold, perhaps a deal breaker if I had been misinterpreting him, but I couldn't help myself; I pulled him against me with more violence than I had intended and I kissed him. I had a momentary lapse of helplessness, thinking for just a second that I had gotten it all wrong, before he kissed me back. Suddenly my life held meaning, suddenly the world wasn't such a horrid place filled with idiots and liars. No, my world was now Harry's and his mine.

My pulse was erratic as we kissed and it was far better than anything I could have imagined in my wildest fantasies. I pulled him closer, trying to absorb all the pleasure he gave me and pull it inside of me as I kissed him. He moaned into my mouth sending me higher until I worried what it would be like to crash back down to Earth from such a glorious touch.

I didn't have to wait long for the answer as a shrill voice interrupted our bliss. "Piss off," Pansy hissed to the second year who had opened the door for Harry. "You're too young to see this!"

"But everyone else is watching," Scuttlebaum whined as he was shoved away.

Parting from those succulent lips pained me so much that I lashed out at our intruders with the kind of venom I usually reserved for Hufflepuff's, not my own housemates. I was desperately worried that with the kiss broken, whatever spell Harry was under would be too and I would find that nothing had changed between us, that we were still just trying to manage an awkward and tense friendship. In fact, Harry's hand clinging to my own was the only thing that kept me from hexing the arses off of everyone in that common room. "Why don't you _all_ piss off," I growled. "Bunch of perverts," I added in a lower tone as an after thought before pulling Harry away from the Slytherin vultures and into my dorm, locking the door behind us with a flick of my wand.

My whole body called out for me to attack those lips again, but the logical part of my brain stopped me and demanded answers; I needed to be sure of that this was before I let my emotions run away with me. "I think there might be an explanation in order," I told him, clutching his hand tighter within my own, unwilling to let him go. Part of me was afraid I had made it up to my room earlier and had fallen asleep; I was terrified this was only my vivid imagination putting Harry here with me and not reality at all. His smile dropped at my words and he bit into his bottom lip, a gesture that was too adorable for words, before looking up at me with that haunting green gaze.

"I left Mike," he replied simply, looking guilty.

My mind rejected the words and I cocked my head in question, bidding Harry to repeat himself. "You left him? Today?"

Harry nodded. "Earlier today. I would have been here sooner, but-" he muttered, his sentence trailing off as he gestured to his abused jaw.

I had nearly forgotten Harry's injury in my haste for snogging and answers –it was fairly obvious where my priorities lay. With a precise spell my mother had taught me ages ago I healed Harry's jaw, smiling as the forming purple bruise receded from his perfect features. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before beaming up at me in thanks.

"Did you break things off before, or after?" I asked cautiously, hoping he understood my question; I didn't think I could form the words to directly ask him if he was still a virgin. I directed him over to my bed as I spoke, pushing the curtains aside before I offered him a seat. I could feel his pulse speed up against my hand as he sat down, pulling me to the mattress to sit beside him. It was as if he was just as afraid to let our hands drop as I was.

"Does it matter? Would you turn me away if I was no longer a virgin?" he asked me hesitantly, and all I could do was stare at him a moment as I tried to form an answer to a question I hadn't expected. All my scheming from weeks ago flitted through my mind, my resolve to take the Gryffindor Golden Boy's purity and my petty and mean reasons behind my wish for it. I no longer felt that way about the boy who sat across from me. I loved Harry, and I didn't care if he was still a virgin or not; who was I to judge anyway? However, my love for him didn't change the fact that I didn't want to be runner up for Harry's affections. I needed to know how and why things between them ended before I turned over my heart into his hand.

"It only matters in the sense that I don't want to be your second choice," I replied at last, trying to put it as delicately as possible. "What happened?"

He winced, as if reliving the moment he broke up with the Ravenclaw. One thing that always fascinated me about Harry was how big his heart was; never capable of shutting someone out completely once they've wormed themselves into his life. Lucky for me I guess. "I didn't actually have sex with him, but we came close…" his voice trailed off as he looked to be reliving the most likely tragic moment –for Corner at least. "I just couldn't go through with it."

"Why not?" I asked, probing his gaze for the answer. "I thought that was what you wanted."

"Mike loves me," Harry began, looking a bit ill over it. "But I don't love him. I think I might be in love with someone else."

Harry looked at me meaningfully and my heart skipped a beat at his words but I refused to show my joy. I was still too worried that this was all some elaborate prank. Up until moments ago Harry seemed set on his future with Corner and I was still leery of hope. Perhaps Harry was just confused and looking for an outlet, and as much as I wanted the boy in my life I cared too much for him to fall into that role; I would only end up demanding more of him than he could give. "Anyone I know?" I asked, my tone teasing, but the shake in my voice betrayed my nerves.

"Well, he _is_ a Slytherin," Harry replied, playing along. "So, there is a good chance you've seen him around a time or two."

"Didn't anyone tell you that Slytherins are bad news, Harry?" I asked, my eyes flicking to the gorgeous flush on Harry's cheeks. "What does he look like?"

"He's alright," Harry remarked coyly and a slow smile curled on my lips.

"Only alright?" I pressed and Harry nodded and laughed –a laugh that made my entire body feel lighter.

"Yeah, you know, perfect blond hair, brilliant gray eyes, beautiful pale skin," he commented casually. "In fact, come to think of it, he looks a lot like you."

"Ah, well that explains the kiss, must have been a case of mistaken identities. I think I know that bloke," I told him, trying to keep my face serious. "I can take you to his dorm if you like," I offered, pulling Harry up and toward the door. I only got three steps before he grabbed my tie with his free hand and pulled me to him roughly.

His lips sought mine and I yielded at once, relishing in the feel of his swollen lips pressed to mine, the taste of his tongue probing my mouth. I moaned for him, a noise that vibrated up through my chest and he kissed me harder in response. I pulled us back to the bed, refusing to break the kiss as we moved. We fell sideways to the mattress, and when we finally broke apart, we were staring at each other from inches apart. "So you chose me?" I asked, my voice a soft whisper against his skin.

"I chose you," he confirmed, a tender smile on his abused lips. Merlin, how I loved this boy.

Harry let my hand go so that he could reach up and caress my face, and I nearly winced at the loss, not even realizing that Harry's hand had almost melded with my own as if he was already becoming part of me. "I don't want to let you go," I admitted, imagining what it might feel like to have Harry wrenched from my life now that it seemed I had him at last.

"Then don't," Harry replied firmly, clutching me to him.

I leaned in and pressed a delicate kiss to his forehead, right on his famous scar and Harry gasped, his fingertips going to the lightning bolt shape as if I'd hurt him. "I'm sorry!" I exclaimed, angry with myself for injuring him so soon. "Did that hurt?" I hoped he could hear the apology in my voice.

"No," he assured me quickly, and though he was still wincing, his hand was on my arm before I could pull away. "It's just, no one ever touches it. They gawk at it and make assumptions about me because of it but… I think you're the first person to ever touch it like that. Most people seem afraid of it."

I sighed with relief, happy that I hadn't inadvertently caused Harry pain of some kind. I smiled across at him and ran my fingertips gently along the jagged lines of the scar before pressing another kiss into it. "I love it," I told him honestly, but he frowned at me, his nose wrinkling up slightly to show me he didn't believe my words, or care for them if he did. "I do," I promised. "It's a symbol of your strength and power. It's an important part of you and I love _every_ part of you."

His eyes closed against my words and I could tell he was fighting not to blush. I used the distraction to place a kiss on his nose, another on his cheek, and then a soft press of lips to his temple. I could only reach half of his face from the way we had fallen into bed, but I propped myself up with my elbow and made the most of the part of his face exposed to me. My hands brushed back his adorably unruly hair and he sighed my name at the touch, his eyes remaining closed.

"Say it again," I urged, trailing my fingertips down his arm.

"Draco," he obliged, his voice a seductive whisper. If I hadn't already been hard from just kissing and lying there with him, just the sound of Harry's voice saying my name would have brought me to full arousal in an instant. Then he said something else, a sibilant hiss that made his tongue roll curiously in his mouth and I nearly came in my trousers. I had never heard anything so erotic in all my life –well, perhaps once, in second year.

"What was that?" I asked, my voice fully betraying my lust.

"Your name in Parseltongue," he replied easily. His eyes were open now and twinkling at me with amusement. Apparently it was clearer than I would have liked that his special ability turned me on so thoroughly.

"You like that, hmm?" he cooed, sounding far too smug about it.

"I might," I conceded and pulled him against me so that he could feel exactly how much I liked it. I gasped as he grabbed me through my denims. I had not expected the Gryffindor to be so bold, but I was glad he was; I preferred him this way. I was in no need of some weeping willow who wasn't comfortable enough in his own skin to be sure of who he was and what he wanted. Harry seemed comfortable; in fact, he seemed more confident than I felt at the moment. Harry responded by rattling off another string of hisses, making my eyelids flutter involuntarily at the sound. I had no idea what he was saying, but he could have invited me to assist him in stomping puppies and I would have agreed to it in that moment. "What did you say?" I prodded when I could breathe again without panting.

"Nothing." His smirk plainly said that 'nothing' was a gross understatement of what he'd _actually_ said, but I was distracted from questioning him further when his nimble fingers reached for the button on my trousers.

"Why did you come here, Harry?" I asked abruptly, suddenly worried about what his intentions were. I wanted the raven-haired boy more than anything, but not like this, not moments after he'd left his boyfriend's bed. I internally scoffed at my reasoning. Here I was, suddenly too moral to shag Harry Potter, who was practically offering himself to me on a red and gold platter, when just weeks ago I had been wishing for this very opportunity. Call it growth or stupidity, I wasn't even sure which it was myself, but I couldn't take him this way.

After so much time spent scheming and chasing I found I didn't have it in me to bed Harry like this. I wanted a relationship, I wanted to sit with him in class and share our meals together and fall asleep next to his warm naked body –and, of course, I wanted sex, lots of it- but in that moment I just wanted to melt into him and let us just _be_ together.

"To tell you that I'm yours if you want me," he whispered, looking suddenly anxious. "Was I wrong in assuming that you did?"

"Merlin, no!" I proclaimed far louder than needed. I didn't want Harry to get the wrong idea about why I was hesitant. "It's just that you were with Corner just this morning. Don't you think that maybe you'll need some time to adjust to this?"

Harry grinned and shook his head in mock-dismay. "You're turning me away after you fought so hard for this very thing?"

"I'm not turning you away," I insisted. "I'm just issuing a rain check. I want more than just sex from you and I don't want to rush into anything." With that said, I kissed him, hoping he felt just how much more I wanted of him. I was a greedy Slytherin and I would demand much from Harry in return for my love and I needed him to be ready. I would require his trust, respect and love in return –and his body as well, oh yes, there was no way I could forget about the glorious body I was sure lurked under those form fitting denims and tee shirt.

Harry melted into me and I slowed the kiss, making it into a more tender movement as I explored his still far too clothed body with my hands. He twisted himself slightly in my grasp so that his entire body was lined with mine, every inch pressed against me. I felt like I could feel his blood thrumming in his veins as I heard his breath come in needy gasps, and I could feel my whole body responding to him even though all we were doing was lying there fully clothed, 'innocently' kissing. Eventually my roaming fingers found the hem of his shirt and lifted, freeing him from the confines of the smooth cotton so that I could get a better look at him.

He was magnificent; his body perfectly sculpted and gently kissed by the sun's rays, his chest heaving from what I hoped was want and not fear. I let my fingertips roam every inch of his chest, pausing to pinch at his hardening nipples, making the boy gasp and nearly arch off the bed. I quirked an eyebrow up at him, finally feeling I had the upper hand after his bout of Parseltongue. But, when I attacked his nipples with my tongue he made the most cock-hardening noise I could have imagined. It was a cross between a stream of snake-speak and a deep throaty moan, making me reconsider my previous pledge of temporary chastity.

Within moments he was tugging me free of my own shirt, his hands immediately going to the clasp on my trousers the minute my shirt was off. I grabbed my wand, which had at some point been discarded on the bed, and used it to close the curtains shut and cast a silent bubble around us in case anyone decided to break my locking spell on the door. I shared the room with four other boys after all and they were all Slytherin through and through. We both scrambled out of the remainder of our clothes and soon I was graced with the very sight that had been haunting my dreams for weeks, only it was far better than anything my imagination had conjured up for me thus far.

I hadn't realized how much darker Harry's skin was than mine until it was pressed naked against me. Even his legs, which I doubt saw much sunlight, were a few shades darker than my own flesh at its darkest point. Everything from our skin to our hair, even our eyes stood out in stark contrast to one another. Light meets dark, sun meets moon, yin meets yang. We couldn't be more polar opposites if we tried, but I think that only fueled my feelings for him. Harry was a bit of a mystery to me; he had made entirely different decisions from me, and led a completely different childhood than I had, all while carrying immense pressure and managing to keep his head held high.

His body was virtually unmarred at first sight until I looked closer. In the flickering candlelight I could see several faint scars on his body and I lovingly traced each one with my tongue, making him gasp and writhe beneath me. "Harry," I whispered against his skin, letting my tone vibrate across his heated flesh. "You're perfect."

Another string of Parseltongue met my ears and thrummed through me and I could no longer take the lust Harry brought forth within me. I licked a trail down Harry's body, smiling as he groaned in appreciation and took the boy's cock into my mouth. When I looked up the expanse of his torso, propped up on straining elbows, I saw his green eyes staring back widely at me, as if he hadn't expected the movement, but as soon as I twirled my tongue around his shaft, dipping gently into the slit at the top, his entire body sagged back to the pillows with a shuddering moan.

He tasted like warm honey, salt and desire as I devoured him, and his hand tangled in my hair. He wasn't forcing my head, just urging me onward –not that I needed the encouragement; I'd been dreaming of doing this for weeks. I had one hand clutching his thigh, digging my fingertips into the supple flesh, as my other hand pumped the base of his cock while I worked the top with my mouth. When I felt his body start to tense up, however, I pulled away to an audible whimper.

When I looked up, Harry was practically pouting up at me and I smiled before crawling back up his body and taking his full bottom lip between my teeth. "I don't want you to come that way," I told him to ease his flustered state and assure him that I wasn't yet finished with him. He looked confused for a moment, as if he couldn't think of any other way. I just smirked and with a rough movement, I switched our positions so that I was lying on my back gazing up into his wide eyes. "I want you to make love to me, Harry," I told him firmly, my cock twitching at the very words and the thought of what they may lead to.

"What?" Harry asked, looking slightly shocked. "But you told me you always topped."

"You'll be my first," I whispered, sounding calmer than I thought I would be after making such a decision so easily. It seemed right though –for both of us. We would both have our first time _together_, and this way I could prove to Harry that I wanted more than just to fuck the Great Harry Potter by giving over my heart and body completely.

His face flushed but a slow smile curled onto those pretty pink lips until he crashed into me with a desperate kiss. Harry's hands traveled my body as we kissed; sending electric sparks straight through to my still hard groin. I wanted so badly for him to take me and I realized that I had never felt as alive as I did then, completely vulnerable and naked for Harry's judgment. I knew I was in good hands though, and I lifted my legs to lock them around Harry's waist, loving that he rutted against me from the movement.

I cast a silent spell and my wand twitched on the bed beside us. I chuckled darkly when Harry yelped in response to the outcome of the Charm. It had probably startled him to find his cock suddenly slick and, no doubt, he would find it even more startling to find that I was stretched and ready for him. His fingertips dug into my arse as he lifted me to gain a better angle and lined himself against my entrance. "Please," I begged; I was never much for the sentiment but I had never wanted anything more in my entire life than for Harry to possess me completely.

He slid into me agonizingly slowly, each inch filling me to the bursting point, but just when I thought it might be too much pain to handle, he hissed my name in Parseltongue and my body automatically relaxed into the feeling of him thrusting inside of me. "Faster," I pleaded, and he obliged me, a new string of snake sounds meeting my ears. I was really going to have to force him to teach me the language; I should be able to learn it -I was a Slytherin after all.

It didn't take long for the combination of Harry's hisses and long deep strokes inside of me to bring me close to the edge of complete bliss, leaving my cock feeling like it was ready to burst. Harry didn't even have to touch me before my orgasm exploded between our entwined bodies, pulling his name from my throat in a raspy scream. I could tell the exact moment of his own release because he squeezed his eyes shut and lolled his head back and I heard my name chanted over and over in Parseltongue before he finally sighed and fell upon me. He stayed wrapped around me and continued to fill me as we both grew flaccid and warm in our sticky embrace. I pressed a kiss to his now sweaty forehead and he looked up at me, his eyes shining with so much love that I thought my heart would break from the sight.

Merlin, how I adored him. His messy hair, his pouting lips, his piercing emerald eyes were all lovely to look at, but that heart of his… Harry's heart was what made me swoon like a silly teenage girl. "I love you, Harry," I whispered. I loved him more than myself, more than my own blood.

His eyes widened slightly at my words, but he eventually relaxed against me, his chin propped up on my chest, and he grinned. "I love you, too."

Those words from his perfect lips made all of my doubts that this was just some fluke rendezvous disappear and made all of my life seem as though it was leading up to this singular moment with Harry in my arms. I just stared at him; my legs still wrapped around his tired body, as I fanned my fingers through his sweaty, raven locks. But, my calm peace wasn't to last long apparently. It wasn't until his fingertips drifted over the place where the Dark Lord had marked me that I realized the full weight of what we had just done.

My body tensed slightly and my eyes flicked down to see if there was some faint ghosting of the mark visible on my arm, but there was no sign for Harry to see that he had just lain with a Death Eater. For the first time in Harry's company I felt ashamed and completely unworthy of his affection. I didn't want to lie to him, but as he rested there so comfortably against my bare chest, I couldn't work up the nerve to tell him what I really was. I couldn't risk his leaving me now; he was my everything. Possibly worse was the fact that no spell or potion would ever keep this memory out of my head if Voldemort probed me, there was no easy way for me to hide this now that we had taken things so far. I might have sealed my own destruction by giving myself over to my father's enemy.

"You're going to have to teach me Parseltongue," I mused, breaking my negative thoughts and the silence that had drifted between us.

"Not on your life," he teased with a smile. "It's too much fun knowing that you don't understand me." I gave him my best Malfoy pout, one that would win me any treat I wished for when I was younger, but he only chuckled up at me and shook his head resolutely.

"Prat," I balked, but he kept laughing.

"Arse," he responded in turn, trying to keep his tone serious and failing.

"Gryffindor," I countered but he only stretched up awkwardly to kiss me before I had time to protest.

"Gryffindor lover," he whispered when he pulled back, smirking at me every bit like a Slytherin.

"Touché."

We laughed and talked about the most light-hearted, unimportant things either of us could think of, but I didn't care. I was so happy there in his tight embrace. I felt as though the whole world had melted away and left us here alone together, and it was perfect. Unfortunately, I eventually had to let my roommates back into the room, and Harry had to get back to his own dorms before curfew, but everything between us had changed. My entire life had been turned completely upside down by those beautiful green eyes.

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The comfortable companionship I had felt with Harry the day before turned into an awkward moment of truth the next morning at breakfast. I hadn't been giving the meal much thought really, my mind was focused simply on seeing Harry again while I made the walk from the dank dungeons across the castle to the Great Hall. When I walked in, the Slytherin table went silent, holding their breath to see what I would do. It was only then that I realized Harry and I were the new gossip amongst our house; the public snogging of mortal enemies would do that I suppose, especially when followed by several hours locked alone together in my room. I wondered how far the news had traveled already, but it seemed confined only to my house for the moment, probably because each and every Slytherin student was terrified to let a rumor about Draco Malfoy leak to the general public, as well they should be.

The other three tables were abuzz with the usual Sunday morning clamor with an added dash of pregnant Gryffindor gossip thrown in for good measure. I spotted Harry at once, his green gaze locked on me from the far end of the Gryffindor table. It was then I became aware I was going to have to make a decision and I didn't want to make the wrong one. Did I head for Harry, thus confirming the Slytherin rumors and allowing the other houses to pick up on our newfound relationship? Or did I go to my own house table to quell the rumors and later talk to the Gryffindor about what level of openness he wanted us to have to the rest of the student body? We hadn't discussed any of this, and in hindsight we should have. Our being a couple –and again, this was me merely assuming that after yesterday we were indeed a couple- was going to blow the gossip about Ginny's pregnancy out of the water and I knew Harry was a very private person. I wasn't sure he was ready for that yet, I wasn't sure _I_ was ready either, for that matter. My father finding out about us could have deadly consequences.

With a deep breath I damned them all and headed toward Harry's lonely spot at the Gryffindor table, scrutinizing his every move to see if he wanted me to divert my path or keep going. He gave no gesture either way so I found myself standing there awkwardly by where he sat, staring down at the empty place on the bench beside him. "Is this seat taken?" I asked and his previously calm and stony face broke into a smile. He shook his head and I sat down and wondered what to do next.

I'd never had a boyfriend before, not really. Hell, I'd never really had a girlfriend either. Everyone liked to assume that I had dated Pansy because she rarely left my side, but that was not of my doing and I certainly didn't encourage it. Parkinson was more like my stalker than my girlfriend. I didn't even know if I could safely call Harry by that title anyway, I didn't know how he felt about it. I doubted he was the type to just shag someone and call it a day, but what else did he want from me? What did normal couples do? And why was I suddenly being such a neurotic girl over the whole thing?

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly before giving Harry the full weight of my gaze. "So, now what?" I asked, hoping I didn't sound as nervous as I felt. I had no reason to be nervous; this was my Harry, he was kind and perfect and all mine… right? Still, what if I messed it all up? What if the rumors about our relationship reached my father's ears, or worse, Voldemort's, and I wasn't able to lie my way out of them? What if Harry had changed his mind about me after he'd left my room last night?

Millions of questions raced through my mind, but I received no answers because Harry's gaze left mine and flicked instead to a figure that had come up behind me. "Ron," he greeted curtly and I whirled to face the boy who had attacked my beautiful Harry yesterday.

Harry must have seen my body tense and my hand reach for my wand, because he set a calming hand on my shoulder and squeezed it gently. I remained still, but I didn't like it. I wanted to Hex Weasley's freckled face off for the bruise he'd left on Harry's jaw. I just sat there and waited, as patiently as a Slytherin could, for Harry to lead the conversation with his old friend and housemate. Even if I were in fact his boyfriend, it wouldn't be my place to interfere.

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Author's Note: bum bum bum!!! Now what's going to happen? What will Ron do?! Also, I know there have been some complaints about the repeatativeness of the chapters, but we feel it's important the reader gets both sides of all major events, and in this case, it'll mean double the smut, so hooray for sticking with us!!!


	16. Harry: The Man I Need

Author's Note: So, it's Laurel's turn now. Thanks for all your reviews so far and your patience while we hammer out these chapters. It's a little trickier to keep a regular posting schedule with two authors instead of only one, but we hope you are all enjoying it so far.

Chapter 16 – Harry – The man I need.

Draco led me into the depths of the Slytherin dungeons and while I'd normally be a little nervous about going so deep within the enemy's lair, I couldn't have felt safer with him. They respected him here, feared him even, I could tell from the way they shrunk back from his sharp words and silently trusted him to lead me into their personal space.

He pulled me into what I assumed to be his room; it looked similar to my own except darker since it had no windows, and the drapes and linens were all in Slytherin's colours; green and silver. "I think there might be an explanation in order," he said to me squeezing my hand as he did. His eyes stared through me, still searching for answers as he had done before we kissed. And oh, that kiss, I wanted to kiss him again; I wanted to kiss him forever and never stop.

But I couldn't, he wanted me to explain how I came to be here with him, kissing him, when I was supposed to have a boyfriend. I didn't want to though, I didn't want to talk about it, I just wanted to forget it ever happened. It's not that I regretted it, or that I didn't want him to know what had happened between me and Mike; I simply wanted him to know already without me having to say it out loud. Unfortunately, life doesn't work that way and I was going to have to accept what I did if I was going to be able to happily move on with Draco. "I left Mike," I said, and the images of _how _I left him, played vividly through my mind. It had been only hours ago, but after tasting Draco for the first time, it felt like a whole lifetime ago.

"You left him?" he asked me. "Today?"

I felt guilty all over again. I felt like a hussy, jumping from one man to another; like I couldn't make up my mind, or like I wasn't comfortable being by myself. Perhaps the first was truer than I'd like, but I knew now that I was firm on my decision to be with Draco. "Earlier today," I replied with a nod. "I would have been here sooner but-" I let my words fall and instead of finishing them I simply gestured to my face; that was another thing I didn't want to explain or think about. I remembered the look in Ron's eyes when he punched me and I was deeply hurt by its confirmation that he truly hated me. I didn't want to talk about that with Draco right now though, it wasn't important; we had other things to discuss.

Draco gently tilted my colouring jaw towards him and, with tenderness I did not expect, he spelled the bruise and the ache I felt away with his wand. He smiled at his handiwork and after testing out my newly healed jaw I returned his smile gratefully.

His happiness fell from his face however, as he formed the words to his next question. Having now tended to my injury it was clear he wanted to focus on getting the answers he desired. "Did you break things off before, or after?" he asked me carefully as though he knew this question and its answer could hurt both of us if I was no longer a virgin. I was, but I felt like he would think less of me if I hadn't been, and I needed to know that he could, and would, love me regardless.

As he spoke Draco had directed me to his bed, opening the curtains so that I could sit, and I was grateful for the offer. I definitely needed to sit down, if he proved that he could not love me if I'd given myself to another, I needed to be sitting so I wouldn't fall. I couldn't let him go though, and so without dropping his hand I pulled him to sit beside me. "Does it matter? Would you turn me away if I was no longer a virgin?" I asked him sincerely, watching closely for the truth of his answer.

He paused and it both worried and pleased me that he was at least considering the answer he gave me. "It only matters in the sense that I don't want to be your second choice," he said at last. "What happened?"

I cringed as I thought again about how I had hurt Mike this morning, but I was relieved to know why Draco was so focused on how it happened. He was worried it had been Mike to turn me away and that he was the consolation while Mike was still my prize. I knew then he would be a needy lover; he would have to be my first priority always as he would accept no less, but I felt sure I was up to the challenge. Besides, I knew he only demanded this because it was the very least he would provide for me. "I didn't actually have sex with him, but we came close…" I told him at last, and I felt again the hurt that I saw in Mike's eyes and the sting of his words as he screamed at me to get out of his room. Still, I was glad it was over, even as much as I wished it had happened another way, I was just happy to be here with Draco right now. "I just couldn't go through with it."

"Why not? I thought that was what you wanted," he questioned, still not satisfied.

"Mike loves me," I admitted sadly before catching his eyes to demonstrate my certainty at my next words. "But I don't love him. I think I might be in love with someone else."

"Anyone I know?" he asked me teasingly, but his voice quivered and I could tell he still needed reassuring.

Logically, I knew I should have felt nervous or vulnerable confessing the depth of my feelings for him, but I didn't. I was so content in his company I felt like I'd told him I loved him a thousand times before, I felt like we'd been together for years. "Well, he _is_ a Slytherin," I teased him. "So, there is a good chance you've seen him around a time or two."

"Didn't anyone tell you that Slytherins are bad news, Harry?" He smirked at me, and I felt light. "What does he look like?"

"He's alright," I shrugged casually.

"Only alright?" he asked incredulously and I laughed and nodded, teasing him further by sticking with my assessment of his looks.

"Yeah, you know, perfect blond hair, brilliant gray eyes, beautiful pale skin," I listed, drinking in his appearance as I described him; he was so beautiful. "In fact, come to think of it, he looks a lot like you."

"Ah, well that explains the kiss, must have been a case of mistaken identities. I think I know that bloke," he said continuing our game, but I'd had enough by then; I wanted him and I didn't want to wait any longer. "I can take you to his dorm if you like," he offered pulling me up by my hand, which he still held on to tightly, and leading me to the door. I didn't let him get very far though, I wasn't going to put up with our banter any more; I wanted him, I'd told him as much, and now I wanted to show him.

I yanked him around to face me before twisting his tie around in my hand and using it to pull him closer; I loved that he was so formal, even on the weekend. I kissed him roughly with all the passion I had building up for him over the last few weeks, I kissed him the way I had wanted to kiss him that night in the empty classroom, the way I dreamed of kissing him while I slept. A guttural moan sounded, uncontrolled, and primal from his throat and my need for him doubled; I tried to pull him closer, pull him into me.

He directed me back to his bed and we flopped together onto his mattress on our sides facing each other. I reigned in my desires and simply worshipped his mouth instead of trying to devour him, I kissed him slowly and gently and I watched him as I did, amazed that I was here with him, yet not surprised at all – it felt so right. "So you chose me?" he whispered and I was astonished he still needed to ask. Was he not present the last few minutes? Did I not just tell him I loved him and then try to eat him?

"I chose you," I assured him, smiling at his insecurities; so unlike the confident, self-assured Malfoy he portrayed to the rest of the world. He was vulnerable with me, he let all his guards down, and I loved it. I loved him. For the first time since he'd kissed me in front of his housemates, I let go of his hand and caressed his beautiful face; it was so lovely I could hardly believe it, hardly believe that this face was now mine to touch and kiss as I liked.

He closed his eyes at my touch and whispered, "I don't want to let you go."

"Then don't," I replied, tightening my hold on him in protest at his even having such thoughts.

He opened his eyes to me then and I felt relief at seeing my feelings for him reflected back at me. He leaned in towards me and I closed my eyes in trust to feel him press a kiss to my hated scar. I was surprised at the affection he showed it when I'd spent my life despising it; I hated what it represented – the death of my family, my connection to Voldemort, my destiny to defeat him. "I'm sorry!" he exclaimed. "Did that hurt?"

"No," I said quickly, wanting to calm his distress and prevent him from trying to pull away from me; didn't he know that would hurt me more than anything else? Now that I had him here with me like this, the thought of eventually having to go back to my own bed hurt my heart. "It's just, no one ever touches it. They gawk at it and make assumptions about me because of it but… I think you're the first person to ever touch it like that. Most people seem afraid of it."

He relaxed instantly at my assurance that I was not injured and he smiled, tracing my scar with his fingertips and then kissing it again. The action still surprised me. "I love it," he said sincerely, but I could only feel disgust at the mark on my forehead; part of me didn't believe him and it must have shown. "I do," he insisted. "It's a symbol of your strength and power. It's an important part of you and I love _every_ part of you."

I closed my eyes again, his words of reverence washing over me. I had never thought of my scar this way, as a mark of strength and survival. It was certainly something to think about. With my eyes closed, Draco began pressing soft kisses all around my face and my heart fluttered for him, he ran his fingers through my hair and I felt the pleasure of his touch shiver through me. His name fell unbidden from my lips, my mind was lost to me, I was completely his.

"Say it again," he requested pulling my consciousness back to him.

"Draco," I whispered in a raspy tone. _'Draco,' _I hissed again in Parseltongue.

He inhaled a gasp of the warm air between us. "What was that?" he groaned with need.

"Your name in Parseltongue," I answered him, opening my eyes to him once more. I smiled, he made me feel happier than I remembered feeling for a long time; I experienced newfound joy in everything he did. "You like that, hmm?" I teased him smugly. It was obvious he found my Parseltongue gift erotic to his ears and for the first time I was pleased to have it.

"I might," he confessed and he reached around to get a handful of my arse and pull me up against him. I could feel his arousal pressing solidly through the thick material of his trousers and all I wanted to do was touch it, taste it, ride it, and even then I knew I'd never be satisfied.I slid my hand down between us and squeezed his cock through his pants making him gasp at my touch.

'_You are so sexy. I want to touch you everywhere, I want to be the only person to ever touch you, and I never want anyone else's hands on me,' _I confessed to him, hissing in Parseltongue and delighting in the effect it had on him.

"What did you say?" he asked me once he'd stopped panting.

"Nothing," I replied trying to look innocent, even though I felt anything but. My thoughts right now were not the thoughts of a virgin, even though technically I still was. I didn't plan to be for much longer though, I wanted him to take me right here on his Slytherin green sheets. I was determined in this and I took the first steps in making it happen, initiating it myself so he wouldn't have any doubts in his mind about what I wanted. I began to undo the button on his trousers when he interrupted me with a question I wasn't expecting.

"Why did you come here, Harry?" he asked and I suddenly lost all of my confidence. Maybe _I _wanted this, but he didn't. Maybe it was too soon… Oh my God. Maybe he thought I was some kind of slut. He wouldn't really be entirely wrong in that either, I mean _two _guys in a matter of hours? What was that if not slutty?

"To tell you that I'm yours if you want me," I told him nervously, feeling self-conscious about my actions. "Was I wrong in assuming that you did?"

"Merlin, no!" he assured me, practically shouting he was so keen to dispel my worries. "It's just that you were with Corner just this morning. Don't you think that maybe you'll need some time to adjust to this?"

I felt my relief melt away my worries; his concern was all for me. I still wanted to make love with him even if I had just been with Mike only hours before; it didn't feel slutty to me, it felt right. "You're turning me away after you fought so hard for this very thing?" I smiled and teased him affectionately.

"I'm not turning you away," he promised me. "I'm just issuing a rain check. I want more than just sex from you and I don't want to rush into anything." He sealed his proclamation with a sweet kiss and I felt him promise me everything I'd ever wanted, and he meant it.

His mouth might have said one thing, but his hands – as they undressed me – were definitely saying another. I pressed into him; I still wanted this – wanted to give him all of me – and I tried to encourage his hands to explore me further. He did. His mouth worked at mine and I breathed him in as I felt his fingers breach my shirt and find my bare skin underneath. He lifted it and I moved so that he could pull it off.

I fell back so that he could get a good look at me and I hoped he liked what he saw. His fingers burned a blazing trail across my flesh and he paused to tease my nipples, making my cock throb with need as the pleasure had me arch up towards him. He mocked me with a raised eyebrow as if mentally noting what I liked before descending upon my nipples again, this time with his mouth. _'Oh fuck, Draco!' _I hissed, lengthening the sound with a moan of appreciation.

I could feel his shirt caressing my skin, and while I loved the feel of it, it was frustratingly unsatisfactory; I wanted more. I insistently freed him of his own shirt so that I might feel his warm skin against mine, but as soon as I'd flung it across the room I found myself attacking the buckle of his trousers. I was like a hungry beast and Draco was my dinner, I needed to devour him in every way possible and the more I got of him, the more I wanted. Once he'd seen to our privacy with a few quick locking and silencing spells, I removed him from his trousers, with his help of course, and wondered how I'd ever managed to sit beside him all those times in the library without this Draco-hungry monster coming out of me as it was now.

Feeling my desperation to have him naked against me, I was quick to remove my own few remaining clothes and soon I could feel the heat from his flesh flowing smoothly across my own. For someone so many considered to be cold, he was surprisingly hot. His skin was flawless, pale even as the candlelight cast an orange glow over him, and it led such a wondrous path across his body, from his face to his neck, his perfect chest and down to a soft tuft of white blond hair crowning his perfect cock.

He was admiring me too and I felt my self-consciousness rising in me only for a moment before he was licking at my chest again, tracing all my ugly scars with his tongue and making me feel as beautiful as he was. "Harry," he whispered against me. "You're perfect."

'_Oh, Draco. Don't stop, please don't stop,' _I hissed to him, unconsciously slipping into Parseltongue again. I had forgotten in my lusty haze that it affected Draco in very pleasant ways, but I was quickly reminded as he took my aching member into his mouth. I sat up on my elbows to look at him as soon as I felt the warm wetness of his mouth, but his skilled tongue pushed away my concerns for him as I sunk back into the bed and lost myself in the feelings he was stirring in me.

I loved what he was doing to me, but I hated that he was so far away and I longed to be closer to him. To placate myself I reached down to him with my hands, threading my fingers through his blond mane, and urging him on as my desire built up higher and higher.

I did not hold back my moans; instead I opened up my throat so that he could hear everything he was doing to me. In an act of Slytherin cruelty, as I started to feel the final build up he pulled away from me and I could have cried. He crawled up my body and happily I had him in my arms once more. "I don't want you to come that way," he whispered to me, and for a moment I was confused. As much as I wanted to, he had still told me he didn't want to rush into sex, and I was willing to respect that – for a while. Holding me tightly with one hand on my hip and his other just under my arm, Draco roughly rolled me over before I knew what was happening so that I ended up lying on top of him. While I felt rather astonished by the movement, and probably looked it too, it was his next words that shocked me. "I want you to make love to me, Harry," he said, sounding sure of himself.

"What?" I gasped. "But you told me you always topped." I understood what a gesture this was from someone like Malfoy, and I could hardly believe my ears.

"You'll be my first," he whispered to me softly. He looked so comfortable with the idea and my heart thumped with emotion as I realized what he was doing. This was his demonstration of just how much he loved and trusted me; to put himself in such a vulnerable position to someone like me, not even just as a Slytherin, but as a Malfoy… I was truly touched, and I felt myself falling only deeper in love with him.

I flushed a little as I imagined the mechanics of it, and just where he was asking me to put my dick, but the thought had me equally as hot for him and I dived on his mouth in my eagerness. My hands toured his body, over the pale, perfect plains of his chest, and I kissed into him the depth of my feelings, hoping he felt it too. Unexpectedly, he trapped me with his legs around my waist and his cock lifted up to brush against mine; I lost my mind at the feel of him and I wondered how many times he could do that to me before he did permanent damage. I didn't care; he could do it to me forever and I would be a very happy crazy man.

He used his wand to lubricate me and so involved was I at the feel of him underneath me that I made an embarrassingly canine-like sound at the icy cold feel of my newly slicked cock. He wanted this now and he didn't want to wait. This thought set me on fire and suddenly I couldn't wait either. My right hand glided along the flank of his leg to his arse before I easily slipped two fingers inside; he was more than ready for me. "Please," he whimpered and I could not resist him.

Fearful of hurting him when he was displaying such trust in me, I entered him slowly and carefully; more slowly than I thought my body could reasonably handle given the effect he had on me. He was so tight and hot around me, it was an unbelievable feeling. The knowledge that we were sharing this experience together for the first time in an act of pure, untainted love had me drowning in a feeling so strong I felt tears prick the corners of my eyes. _'__Draco,' _I hissed his name, and I felt him relax around me so that the last of my cock slipped in easily. I pulled out and roughly pushed back inside, losing some of the control I had struggled to keep. He moaned under me, and I relaxed slightly knowing I hadn't hurt him.

"Faster," he begged me, and with his permission I let go of a little more of my control. I let my mind become tangled in the combined feelings of my heart and of Draco's tight muscle around my own, and his sharp fingernails cutting into my upper arms as he gripped me.

'_Oh, I love you so much,' _I hissed to him. _'So close, Baby.' _I watched Draco grunting under me with his eyes squeezed shut as he relinquished his self-control to the feel of me thrusting into him. I felt my sweat pouring off my body and could see the roots of my Baby's blond hair becoming damp and heavy at our exertion.

"Uh, Harry!" he cried out as he exploded between us and his arse clenched around me, massaging me further. It was more than I could take and I followed not long after him, pouring myself into him, and crying out to him in Parseltongue.

As the adrenalin from my orgasm drained out of me, my muscles lost their strength and I fell upon him, enjoying the cool sheen of sweat that covered his skin. He smelled so good like this and I breathed him in contentedly, not attempting to move or remove myself from him; I couldn't even if I had wanted to.

As my strength slowly returned I was able to lift my head to look at him, just to make sure he was okay. He smiled back at me. "I love you, Harry," he told me softly, and I could see in his eyes it was true.

"I love you, too," I answered him, sure of my feelings even more so now that we had made love. I grinned stupidly at him and I didn't care; this was how he made me feel. I rested my head tiredly on his chest and closed my eyes to the feel of his fingers carding through my hair.

"You're going to have to teach me Parseltongue," he said to me easily as I practically purred against him.

"Not on your life," I laughed, the sound vibrating through me, and then through him. "It's too much fun knowing that you don't understand me."

I glanced up and him and he pouted cutely at me. "Prat," he said, but I only laughed harder.

"Arse," I retorted, matching his insult.

"Gryffindor," he replied, as though he were returning my name-calling.

It was an insult to him, but not to me. I kissed him. "Gryffindor lover," I said with a smirk.

"Touché," he conceded and I laughed again as I realized I had won that match.

There was so much I wanted to ask him, so many of the worries I had argued with myself about over the last few weeks; worries about Voldemort and his family, his safety, and the consequences he would face should they learn of our relationship, which they undoubtedly would considering we'd shared our first kiss in front of his entire house. At these thoughts I began to wonder how wise it was for me to act on the passing words of an unknown Ravenclaw to 'not think too much'; what if Draco had to face awful consequences for this act we had just shared? His father would certainly not be pleased.

I pushed the worries aside as I reasoned that his father would not know we had made love. Draco could deny that he loved me and perhaps placate his father, or maybe he could convince his parents to switch sides and I could protect them all. Yes, we certainly had a lot to talk about -Draco's future, as well as any information Draco had for me about Voldemort's plans- but it could all wait, because right now I had more important things to worry about, like my newfound discovery that Draco was ticklish down his side.

I would worry about those other things later. Much later.

--

I arrived at breakfast early the next morning in my eagerness to see Draco again, but he had yet to arrive. I grabbed a few bits of toast and two eggs for breakfast, and picked at it slowly with my eyes locked firmly on the doors to the Great Hall watching for that familiar shock of blond hair I so longed to see. I wondered what he would do when he arrived, whether he would sit with me or return to his Slytherin friends; I wasn't even sure what I hoped he would do. Part of me wanted to keep our relationship a secret for a while, if only out of respect for Mike –who I noticed had not shown up to breakfast yet- but another part of me wondered if I _could _keep our relationship a secret when I knew I'd need to touch him somehow whenever I saw him.

Talk about Ginny's pregnancy was sweeping the Great Hall and I wondered if that was why my public kiss with Draco went largely unmentioned. After all, what was a kiss between enemies to a teenage pregnancy? I tried to ignore the chatter and I saw the twins and Ron trying to control the gossip with pointed stares, but I knew from experience that when the Hogwarts rumour mill got going there was no stopping it.

I focused back on the Great Hall doors so that I wouldn't miss Draco when he walked in, and only a few minutes later I wasn't disappointed. He was as glorious as I remembered and I knew immediately I didn't want him sitting anywhere but beside me. In true Slytherin form Draco scanned the surrounding area before searching for me; he was assessing any direct threats, I guessed, and he seemed satisfied with the result.

He looked at a loss for a moment, as if he'd just realized what I'd been wondering since I arrived –where would he sit? His eyes never left mine as he considered his options and as his shoulders relaxed I realized he'd made a decision, resigning himself to the consequences he walked a direct and sure line towards me. "Is this seat taken?" he asked me as if there were a chance I'd refuse him. Silly rabbit.

I grinned at him and indicated that he should sit. He sat with me silently as I continued to pick at my plate and I wondered if he would gather up his own food or eat from mine. Secretly I wanted to feed him myself and have him suck on my fingers at each bite, and maybe I'd lick off anything he had lingering at the corners of his perfect mouth. But he didn't make any movement that made me think he was at all hungry. He sighed. "So, now what?" he asked me, and I was surprised to see that he meant it; he had no idea what we were now. I wanted to make light of his question and tell him that perhaps we should just start with breakfast and see, but I couldn't because as I looked at him to speak I noticed that Ron had given up on trying to conceal Ginny's scandalous news and was standing right behind him looking expectantly at me.

"Ron," I said in greeting, and Draco was quick to turn around and face him. Draco had looked furious last night when he'd seen my bruise and I wasn't sure what he would do now that Ron stood in front of him obviously intending to talk to me. I laid my hand upon Draco's shoulder and squeezed, hopefully conveying my wish for him to let me handle this. It seemed to.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Ron asked me. It felt so strange to hear his voice, I had heard it nearly every day for the last six years, but it sounded alien to me now. "_Alone._"

Draco rose from his casually slumped position, lengthening his back and neck as if to assert some dominance over the situation. Thankfully, he remained silent. "I don't know," I answered Ron warily. My heart had already forgiven him for everything he'd done to me long before he'd ever ask for it out loud, but my mind was cautious, careful to protect myself against the hurt my old best friend could still inflict upon me. I had to take things slowly. Besides, I had Draco to worry about now; I needed to make sure he didn't do anything stupid in my name.

"Please," Ron softly begged me. He glanced along the table and I noticed for the first time that all of Gryffindor was watching us; no doubt depictions of our fight had spread to all the students who were not there to witness it themselves, and who knew what exaggerated versions people had heard by now.

I looked to Draco who had not yet taken his eyes away from Ron; he didn't trust him that much was obvious. I wanted to reassure him that I would be fine if I went to talk with my old friend but he wouldn't look at me. I nodded silently and got up from my seat, Draco did the same.

I was surprised to find that Ron and I still knew each other well enough to communicate silently. He questioned Draco's presence with a look, reminding me he wanted to talk to me alone, and with a returned glance I told him that if Draco wanted to come, he would.

"Did you actually think I would leave you alone with him?" Draco hissed, picking up on our looks – whether he understood them or not – and confirming my silent words to Ron. Draco _would _be joining us. "I saw what you did to him last night."

"Harry knows I wouldn't hurt him," Ron retorted, sounding defensive, yet rather sure about himself. I was instantly cross with him for challenging my boyfriend; Draco had earned his place at my side, Ron had thrown his away.

"I used to think I knew a lot of things about you," I snapped rather harshly and Ron seemed to shrink back from me like a scolded puppy. I felt a twinge of guilt, particularly when I turned to see our fellow Gryffindors lapping up the exchange and seemingly logging away details about what was said and who won the argument – me, I guessed, given that Ron was quick to agree to Draco's presence and head for the door and somewhere more private.

We made our way outside into the chilled air – it would be Christmas soon enough – it seemed like so much had happened since the start of the year that Christmas should have come and gone by now, but it was still a few weeks away.

Ron turned suddenly, not bothering to find us a bench to sit on, but clearly wanting to get this over with and do so quickly. "Um, yeah, okay," he stuttered nervously, and I supposed Draco's dangerously narrowed eyes did not help him to focus. "I guess I just wanted to say, um, _sorry_, for, er, hitting you and all that," he eventually managed to choke out. The look on Draco's face made me think he didn't seem to think it was enough, and, while I knew it was quite a gesture for Ron who never seemed to apologize to anyone but Hermione, I was inclined to agree with him. "I, um, I know it wasn't you who…" his final words drifted away and I knew this was all I would get from him for now, at least he believed I hadn't knocked up Ginny.

"Yeah, well, like I said, I'm _gay_," I reminded him and glanced over to Draco to emphasize my point. Ron squirmed as I knew he would, I would have bet he was just as angry with me for being gay as he was for playing up on his sister.

Ron cleared his throat. "Yeah, um, doesn't look too bad anyway," he said nodding at my jaw where he had bruised me not even twenty-four hours ago.

"I _healed_ him, you fuckwit!" Draco shouted, practically launching himself at the redhead, but I held him back discretely with my hand which he still grasped on to tightly. "And to be honest, you're fucking lucky I haven't hexed your dick off for touching him!"

"Baby," I whispered to him, pulling him back into me. It seemed to calm him down and I felt him relax next to me.

"He hurt you," he reminded me softly; this was only for me to hear.

"I know," I sighed and I kissed his cheek. "I'm alright. Why don't you go back inside, I'll be okay."

"No," he refused without hesitation and he eyed Ron skeptically. "I'll shut up, but I'm staying. He needs to know that I _will hurt him_ if he touches you," he growled loud enough for Ron to hear.

"He knows," I said, looking over to Ron silently telling him that if Draco saw fit to attack him, I might just let him do it. Draco nodded and, to his credit, he wandered a few metres away from us, but still clearly within earshot. "Did you have anything else to say to me?" I asked when it became obvious Ron was at a loss for words.

"Yeah, um, just to say sorry and, well…" It looked like he was having even more difficulty with the second part of his speech than he had with the first. "You see, Ginny took up your position on the Quidditch team and now… well, she can't play anymore…"

My heart dropped in disappointment. Of course, he was only here because he needed me to play, not because he realized he'd make a mistake and truly wanted to make it right. "And you need me to," I finished for him.

"Um, yeah," he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I wouldn't ask except-"

"No." I turned from him to make my way to the safety of my lover and his comforting arms.

"_Harry!_" he pleaded.

"I said no," I told him firmly, not even bothering to look around.

"Please, we're desperate-" _Obviously_ if they had to resort to me. "-we have the Slytherin game coming up and with the team as it is they're going to thrash us!"

I couldn't believe his nerve. How could he beg me like I _owed _him something? I didn't owe him anything, and I told him so. "You gave up on our friendship without a second thought," I spat back at him sharply, and I could feel Draco standing close behind me in case I needed him. "I understand that you wanted to stand by Ginny because you have a responsibility to her as her brother, but I thought you had a responsibility to me too, as my best friend! You didn't even bother to _talk _to me about it, you just took her word for it, and look what her word is worth! She's fucking pregnant with someone else's kid!" I was screaming all my hurt at him, all my frustration and anger, and it was scratching my throat raw. "Tell me, Ron, given everything that's happened, do you really think a half-arsed apology is going to fix everything? That I'll skip along with you back to the Quidditch Pitch and tell you everything is forgiven!?" I swallowed and the thick phlegm in my mouth hurt as it went down. Ron was silent – we all were – and I felt Draco's hand rub soothing circles across my back.

"I don't know what else to say," Ron admitted, his gaze locked firmly on a large rock near his feet. "I don't know how to change what happened. I should have talked to you, but I just… I dunno." He shrugged pathetically.

"I'm not asking you to change what happened," I sighed. It was only morning, but I was so tired from this emotional drain I could have happily crawled back into bed with Draco and slept another few hours. "Just tell me the truth… do you hate me?"

"No, of course not!" he exclaimed sounding offended at the suggestion and I could have hit him myself. "I have never hated you. I just hated what you did to Ginny – and to me."

"I never did anything to you!" I defended myself. Draco had stopped rubbing my back, but he was still close behind me.

"You cheated on my sister! I trusted you with her and you – you – you should have told me!" he spluttered.

"I should have told you I was cheating on Ginny!?" I asked him incredulously.

"Yes," he replied firmly. "You should have told me you were gay."

He shocked me with that last statement, especially with how easily the word 'gay' left his mouth, like he'd said it a thousand times before and was not even remotely hesitant about it. "What would you have done?" I asked him seriously.

"I would have been angry, but I would have gotten over it," he answered, focusing his eyes on me as if Draco wasn't there. "You're my best friend."

"I didn't know how – how could I confess that to you?" I said, folding under his gaze. When he told me I was his best friend as if I still were, I felt my knees buckle.

"I dunno," he shrugged, and then for a second I saw him smile. "Maybe something like 'Hey Ron, I'm gay and I'm poking your sister's ex-boyfriend behind her back.'"

I smiled weakly back at him. "Oh yeah, you would have loved that," I scoffed lightly.

"Well, I don't know," he huffed. "You just should have said _something_, I felt like I didn't know you at all. How could I not know something this _huge _about you!? I was your best friend for fuck's sake!" Guilt twisted at my gut and suddenly I didn't feel so righteous anymore. Then in a show of maturity I would have never expected from Ron, he said, "I suppose when it all blew up I should have talked to you about it instead of ignoring you, but I was just so angry… and then it was too late."

I blinked at him. "It wasn't too late," I said, and he looked up at me with hopeful eyes. "I guess we're both idiots. I'm sorry I didn't trust you enough to tell you." _Even though my fears of rejection were justified when it all finally did come out_, I thought silently to myself.

"Me too," he nodded, and he looked truly repentant. "I'm sorry I only listened to Ginny and never asked you anything about it. Is it too late to fix this?"

"Depends why you want to fix it," I replied, still a little wary of his intentions. "So we can try to be friends again, or so I'll agree to play for you?"

"Don't worry about the game, it's not your problem," he dismissed it easily, shaking his head.

I nodded, accepting that he wasn't just trying to manipulate me into playing, but I didn't have an answer for him. I knew we would never have that easy trust we once did, and whatever friendship we did build again would take time and a lot of effort; I wasn't sure we could do it, but I supposed we owed it to each other to at least try. "Mike and I broke up," I told him, figuring if we were going to give this friendship thing a go we should probably start filling each other in on what we'd missed these last few weeks. "I'm with Draco now." I wanted him to know that if he wanted me back he would be getting all of me, my new boyfriend included.

"Yeah, I figured that," he nodded, eyeing Draco cautiously. "That's – good?" he asked as though he were checking it with me.

"Yes, it's very good," I confirmed leaning back into my lover; Draco wrapped his arms around my waist from behind. "He makes me happy."

"Okay, good," he said smiling tentatively. "I should get back, Hermione is probably wondering where I am."

"Yes, I suppose so."

He turned and started back towards the castle, and then stopped to tell me one last thing. "She misses you," he said.

My mind flashed back to our exchange in the library a few days ago. "I know," I said. "I'll talk to her." He nodded and walked up the stone steps leaving Draco and I alone.

We shared in a comfortable silence for a while as I let him hold me, and I felt him kiss my hair a few times. "That was _intense_," he said eventually.

"It was a bit," I agreed, and he released me and took my hand to lead me back into the warmth of the castle. "I'm sorry you had to see all that."

"_Hey,_" he chastised me for apologizing, gently tugging on my arm in protest. "I was just glad I was able to be there for you, that's not something I would have wanted you to face alone." I smiled at the sentiment; he truly was the man I needed in my life. "So what did you think about all that?"

He guided me away from the stairs I had been heading towards thinking we were going back to his room, and down a different set of stairs. I frowned at him, mildly confused and he raised his eyebrows at me waiting for my answer. "I'm not sure, that was a lot to take in," I told him taking a deep breath. "I can't believe he wants me to play on the Quidditch team again."

"Do you _want _to play?" he asked me knowingly and I wanted to swat that smirk right off his face. How did he know me so well? I wanted to tell Ron to bugger off, but the Seeker in me couldn't resist the opportunity to chase the Snitch once more, and the Gryffindor in me couldn't let Slytherin just _have _the Quidditch Cup without a fight.

"What about you? We'd have to play opposite each other again," I reminded him as if he'd forgotten he was the Slytherin Seeker. He stopped dead in his tracks and I gave a sharp yelp as I almost crashed into him. He grinned at me wickedly before tickling the pear in a familiar portrait of a bowl of fruit.

"Just think of all the fun I could have trying to distract you," he teased me, and then pulled me into the kitchen busy with House Elves scurrying about. "We could make it much more fun than just win or lose, perhaps the loser should give the winner a blow job."

"That's quite an incentive for me to win, you're rather good at that," I laughed, ignoring all the obliging House Elves at my feet as Draco lifted me to sit on one of the preparation benches.

"Yes, well, you've been spectacular at everything else so far, I'm dying to know how well you suck-"

"Draco!" I scolded him, blushing furiously at the thought of Dobby – who was currently demanding my attention – hearing Draco, his old master, talking dirty to me.

"Right, let's get you some proper breakfast, shall we?" he suggested, abruptly changing the subject and turning to the House Elves who were apparently only too happy to help.

"Better grab two croissants for me," I told him, "I'm going to need my strength if you're going to help me practice my Quidditch skills with a few one-on-one Seeker games this afternoon."

He turned back to look at me with one eyebrow raised as if to say, _'really? Is that so?'_

"Best two out of three, and if you win maybe you won't have to wait a whole week to see how well I suck cock," I declared boldly with a wink, before pulling him in by the front of his shirt for another kiss.

Author's Note: Tee hee. I do adore their banter. My turn next!!


	17. Draco: No Rest for the Wicked

Author's Note: Thanks to Laurel for A. partnering with me on this story and B. beta-ing this chapter! I heart her, even if she does like Vegemite....

17: Draco - No Rest for the Wicked

The golden Snitch taunted me from just outside my outstretched fingertips. Darting and weaving around the pitch I'd finally had it within my grasp – almost – when Harry came accelerating toward me with more grace than should be permitted from a Gryffindor. A low growl vibrated through me as I launched myself that final centimeter to swipe the fluttering ball from the air, only to have it dive to the side so that I missed it entirely. It was as if the Snitch _wanted _Harry to win.

I'm not even sure I could repeat the incoherent string of curses that I muttered as I pulled the broom handle to the left in pursuit of the elusive golden bauble. Harry came up beside me effortlessly and actually had the audacity to grin as he passed me by and did a loop that I was positive was for no other purpose than to show off how much better he was than me. I hated being second place at anything, and I'd always considered myself a natural at Quidditch until I'd met Harry. Now I had to fight harder than ever just to keep up with him, and I felt no real hope of ever being better.

I narrowed my eyes determinedly and made a wide arc, coming at the Snitch from a different angle, and I watched Harry in my peripheral swoop in from below. It was do or die now, win or lose, give or receive. The negotiated reward for this little practice made me smirk and without taking my eyes of the golden ball whizzing through the air, I shouted out to remind Harry of our wager. "I can already feel your lips on my cock, Potter!"

The words were enough to tear his gaze away from the Snitch as those emerald eyes locked onto me instead. I chuckled as I took the advantage, scooting out to the edge of my broom and grabbing the Snitch out of the air with one precise swipe of my hand. "HA!" I screamed triumphantly and flew in a lazy circle down to the ground.

"You cheated!" Harry called after me, both our feet hitting the ground simultaneously.

"I broke no rules," I countered as I held up my gleaming prize and wiggled it in his face.

His pout was too adorable to resist and I claimed those luscious lips for my own. His argument was lost after I let my broom fall to the ground and wound my arms around him. There is nothing in the world that could make me grow tired of holding Harry in my arms. It felt so right that I could hardly believe I'd ever considered him my enemy. Now, he was only my rival on the pitch.

"I suppose you'll be wanting your reward now?" he breathed against my lips when we broke apart and I followed his gaze as his eyes flicked over to the locker room entrance.

My answer came out sounding more like a purring moan than actual words and Harry's eyes lit up. I'm sure he knew the effect he had on me, but I couldn't help but remind him, in fact, it seemed I had very little control over myself when I was with him. I wanted to be touching him every moment and it was torture when he wasn't near enough to allow it.

I grabbed both of our discarded brooms from the ground and obediently followed as he tugged me into the locker room. He was already unlacing his leather armguards and the brooms fell to the tile with a clatter as I dropped them to swat his hand away. "That's my job," I informed him firmly and pulled his arm to me. Slowly, I untied it and threw it to the ground with our brooms, lifting his newly exposed wrist to my lips. I flicked my tongue out and traced the vein there, overcome by the taste and smell of leather and sweat.

When I looked up again, Harry's eyes were closed; his thick raven lashes fluttering prettily, so I reached for his other arm and repeated my ministrations. His robe slipped off easily enough and it took only seconds for my mouth to latch onto his salty neck. Harry's hands, free of their leather trappings, feathered into my hair as he made encouraging noises – deep guttural sounds that had me hard in an instant. My own fingers pulled his sweater away from his trousers so I could touch his bare flesh and he drifted down to fumble with my uniform as soon as I'd freed him of his shirt. My erection was growing uncomfortable pinned within my tight cream trousers, but there was little I could do about it since my hands refused to stop touching Harry so that I could remove them. Our kissing grew insistent as we worked to free each other of our many layers. Not only was winter in its full-fledged glory, but Quidditch uniforms were never meant to be removed with haste.

"Damn these uniforms," I cursed under my breath. "Next time we practice nude."

Harry chuckled, his head lolled back as I took one of his delicious tan nipples into my mouth. "That wouldn't be distracting at all," he groaned. I laughed too as the image of the two of us flying starkers around the pitch came to the forefront of my mind and then suddenly I winced and Harry looked at me in confusion.

"Never mind that idea. It would be a horrid place to get a splinter," I explained, but instead of laughing as I'd expected he grabbed my erection through my trousers and smiled.

"I certainly wouldn't want any damage to come to this," he purred, and just like that he erased my moment of comedy and plunged me back into a lusty haze.

Our movements became less and less restrained as we removed more clothing until we were practically rutting against one another in the middle of the room. It was Harry who came to his senses first and tugged me by the hand into the showers. The hot spray took a moment to adjust to, but I easily ignored it when Harry dropped to his knees in front of me.

I gasped at the sight, Harry's emerald eyes were glazed over with want, his lips slightly parted and his chest was heaving with rasping breath. I'd never wanted anyone as much as I wanted him right then. I strained to keep my eyes open when he licked his lips. He hadn't even touched me yet and I was ready to explode.

When he took me into his mouth at last I had to grip the tile wall behind me in an effort to keep standing. His mouth was so hot compared to the cool air that wafted through the drafty locker room, even hotter than the water that pounded on my back. As I'd predicted, Harry seemed to be an expert at everything he did and giving head was no exception. I probably sounded ridiculous with my open moaning but I couldn't help it, as his tongue swirled and his mouth sucked I just couldn't stop the noises from leaving my lips. "Harry," I cautioned with a throaty whisper. "Harry I'm close."

The warning didn't slow him in the least and his head continued to bob against me at the same pace until I screamed his name and emptied myself into his mouth. No amount of clutching the wall could hold me up after that and I collapsed in front of him, my knees smarting as they hit the tile floor. I claimed his mouth and moaned against the taste of myself on his tongue as I wrapped my hand around his throbbing erection and began to stroke him.

Harry's nails dug into my arse as he came, and he drew blood when he bit my lip during his release. He looked horrified for a moment but I assured him there was nothing to worry about as I leaned in to kiss him again. "You're even better at that than I expected," I praised, running my fingers through the wet rivulets running down his taut abdomen.

"Perhaps we should raise the stakes for the Gryffindor-Slytherin game," he purred against my lips.

"Oh?" I asked, returning his cheeky smile. "What did you have in mind?"

"Winner gets whatever he likes, wherever he likes, for a week," he replied and I pretended to think it over.

"Could be interesting," I murmured, attempting to play down my excitement over getting to ravish my Harry anywhere and anyway I liked for a whole week, but I don't think he was fooled. I also ignored the fact that I could probably do that anyway, because as a bet it would be so much more fun. "Deal," I replied at last and offered my hand to shake.

We sealed our bargain with a kiss instead.

------------------------------------------------------------

Showering with Harry wasn't terribly productive so far as getting clean went. In fact, I think I felt dirtier coming out than I did going in, but I certainly wasn't going to complain. Harry was magnificent and I felt at perfect ease with his hand twined in mine as we walked to dinner together. We'd been fairly reclusive all weekend, but since we'd taken meals together Sunday and couldn't seem to stop touching each other during classes, by now there wasn't a single student – or staff member for that matter – who wasn't aware that Harry and I were dating.

This fact was actually quite daunting when I let myself think about it. It's not that I wasn't relieved that I didn't have to keep our relationship a secret, that would be near impossible with how I felt about him, and it would significantly reduce the amount of touching I'd be permitted and that alone was unacceptable. People had grown used to seeing us together over the past few weeks, but not quite like this. Everywhere we went we were holding hands, every class we sat as close as possible and probably everyone had seen us kiss at least once. I wouldn't change my actions when I was with him for anything, but there were still a few people who I wished could somehow stay blind to it.

Mostly my Slytherin classmates whose parents were Death Eaters like my own.

I knew that it was only a matter of time before word got to my father and Voldemort that I was fucking the enemy – if it hadn't happened already. I suppose I would find out soon enough. Christmas holidays were fast approaching and with Voldemort taking residence at Malfoy Manor, he was completely unavoidable. At this point the best I had to hope for was that I wasn't summoned to him sooner. If they meant to kill me when I went home, I wanted to enjoy as much time with Harry as I could.

"What's wrong, Love?" Harry asked, tugging me out of my dark thoughts. I quickly plastered on a smile and shook my head lightly.

"Nothing," I lied, but I could tell he didn't buy it for a moment. "I'm just worried about what vengeance people might decide to take against us for being together." That was true enough, if not exactly what I was thinking.

"You mean Mike?" he asked and I shrugged. I hadn't meant him at all, but now that Harry mentioned it, yes, the Ravenclaw did pose a potential threat. After Harry explained what he'd done, I almost felt sorry for Corner – almost. Being left in the middle of sex had to be the most humiliating way to be broken up with in the history of all time. I would have even lectured Harry over it myself had it not led him to me. I am beginning to find my priorities and beliefs tend to shift when Harry's involved. "I don't think we need to worry about him. He'll probably avoid us altogether if he can," Harry mused aloud. I don't think I would be too far off the mark by saying Harry was hoping that would be the case and was not at all sure of it. Personally, I didn't know enough about Corner to predict his actions. For all I knew I would find itching powder in my hair potion, or find my shoes perpetually tied together, or Harry might be right and he would just leave us alone. I tended to think otherwise, however.

"You have Charms alone with him tomorrow," I observed, not too pleased that I had been forced to remember that.

"I know," he groaned unhappily. Harry hadn't seen his ex since Saturday afternoon that I was aware of, not even a glimpse in the hall. He'd even avoided being in the Great Hall at the same time as us so far. I could sense that Harry was worried about this fact, but I wasn't sure I wanted to know why. Did he miss him? Did he feel like he'd made a mistake in choosing me?

"I could probably get you out of it if you like?" I offered.

His brow furrowed in confusion and it took a fair bit of resistance not to kiss the crease he'd made in his forehead. "And how would you do that?"

"I have a bit of pull with Severus," I admitted.

He looked even more confused for a moment and then laughed. "I've only heard Dumbledore and McGonagall call him by his first name, and usually it was when they were cross with him."

I laughed too as I imagined my godfather being lectured by the Transfiguration professor and the bored look he'd most likely have on his face throughout. "He's my godfather." I wasn't sure if Harry knew that or not, some Slytherins did but not all of them and the ones who did weren't known for talking to Gryffindors about anything, much less their housemates' secrets.

He blinked rapidly and looked as if I had a Flobberworm eating my face. "How in Merlin's name did that happen?"

"His father and mine are…friends…sort of," I explained. "They're as close as De – er – Slytherins get anyhow." I held my breath as I waited to see if Harry had noticed my slip, but if he did, he didn't acknowledge it.

"I have to go to Charms at some point," he replied, carefully avoiding the new information I'd just given him. Part of me couldn't believe I was sharing so much already. At this rate he'd have me babbling the Dark Lord's whereabouts during pillow talk and I'd be tortured nice and slow for letting that slip. "Even someone like Snape couldn't get me out of Charms permanently."

"What do you think you're going to do when you see him?" I asked tentatively.

"I really don't know. I feel like rubbish for what I did to him, but I would have felt worse if I'd gone through with it," he replied.

"So, no regrets?" I asked and he rolled his eyes slightly.

"I can't believe you'd ask me that after what just happened in the locker room," he teased and I couldn't help but smile. I don't know why I was feeling so constantly concerned about our relationship. I mean, sure it was new, sure we were both keeping carefully guarded secrets from one another, sure we'd been rivals up until a few months ago, and sure our friends hated one another…. Actually, put like that I couldn't believe I wasn't _more _concerned about our future together.

"I'm not typically so insecure," I informed him; trying for the haughty grace I should be feeling in the presence of someone who loved me. I came up short but Harry didn't seem to mind.

"You mean with all the other people you've dated?" he joked, but his tone wasn't entirely teasing. I was pleased to discover I wasn't the only one mildly insecure.

"No, I meant in general, but yes. I've never been in a relationship before where I wasn't entirely in control," I admitted.

"But you've had a lot of them," he pressed, not a question, more of a statement. I wasn't entirely sure how much he wanted to know about my past, so I remained vague.

"I've had a few."

He seemed to process that as he pulled me away from the main path to the Great Hall and into a small alcove where we had to dodge a suit of armor to fit. "How many?"

"Harry," I whispered, my voice laced with regret. I didn't want to have this conversation now, I wanted to be able to avoid all the big topics forever if I could and just bask in the glow of finally being with Harry.

"So, a lot then," he seemed to deduce from my silence.

"Not a lot," I corrected with a sigh. "I've never gotten more than a blowjob from another guy, and I've never given any more than a kiss," I told him, wanting to assuage his fears as much as possible. "I've been with a couple girls."

"Who?" he pried and I let my head fall against the wall.

"Pansy and Daphne," I told him. "The other guy was Blaise, who is quite jealous of you I must say," I added with a smile. Harry smiled back but it didn't reach his eyes.

"That's better than I thought," Harry admitted with a slight blush.

I rolled my eyes and kissed his pouting lips. "You assumed I was some kind of lothario?"

"Well, look at you," he muttered, seemingly embarrassed and I locked my mouth on his, trying to convey how different this was to me, how important he was.

"I've never felt this before you, Harry," I whispered against his lips. "I've never been willing to risk it all on another person, and believe me when I say there is a lot to risk. If I were the Malfoy my father wants me to be I would have never pursued you."

"So then why did you?" he asked, his eyes serious and penetrating. I couldn't have this conversation right now. I couldn't possibly tell him that I won him over falsely; I couldn't chance losing him now by informing him that he'd been right to distrust me all along and that I had originally intended to seal his death. The fact that I was surely going to meet my own should negate that anyhow, right? Probably not, but I still wasn't going to talk about that. Not now at least. So, instead I met his serious gaze with one of my own and I let him feel the weight of it for a moment before I replied. "Because you've got the nicest arse in Hogwarts."

The stern look he gave me faded almost at once as he rolled his eyes and kissed me. It was a sweet kiss, soft and lingering, as if he was reminding me that he was mine for now, but the conversation was by no means over. Postponement was the best I could have hoped for anyway, so I took what I could get and after a few minutes we slipped out of our hiding place and went to dinner. We had so many things to talk about, so many issues that could mean our dissolve as a couple, but for now Harry seemed as content as I was to brush them under the rug for the time being.

------------------------------------------------------------------

"You can go sit with them if you like," I told my boyfriend as his gaze drifted toward his old friends for the hundredth time. We hadn't been talking much since our arrival at dinner and Harry had barely touched his plate. Something was weighing heavily on his mind and I was terrified of what that might be.

"You wouldn't come with me?" he asked, his attention focused solely on me now.

"Not if I wasn't invited," I replied.

"You're always invited," he said, looking slightly shocked that I hadn't already known that.

"Malfoys don't assume," I pointed out, but he just rolled his eyes and muttered 'bullshit'. "Well, I'm not making any assumptions when it comes to that situation," I corrected. "It's between the three of you. I'll only step in if one of them hurts you."

"I can take care of myself," he replied and I nodded.

"I know you can," I told him without a hint of sarcasm. "That doesn't stop me from wanting to Hex anyone who causes you harm."

"I love you," he blurted unexpectedly, wearing my favorite haphazard grin on his face.

"That's only to be expected," I replied and kissed his nose when he swatted my arm.

"I shouldn't go over there," he said decisively, reverting back to our previous topic of discussion. "They should come to me if they want to be friends again."

"I agree."

"You do?" he asked, sounding more unsure than he had previously let on.

"I do," I confirmed. "They botched up the relationship, so they should be the ones to repair it."

"Maybe," he replied, and took obvious effort to pull his gaze away from the chattering couple. "What should we do tonight?" Harry asked, obviously trying to mentally steer himself away from the other end of the Gryffindor table.

"I'm sure I could find a way to take your mind off of Weasley and Granger," I purred against the shell of his ear.

"I'm sure you could," he replied and wrapped his foot around mine under the table. "What about your friends? We could hang out with them tonight," he offered and it took a good deal of control not to laugh.

"I don't have any friends, Harry," I said out loud for the first time.

Harry frowned and glanced back at the Slytherin table. "What about Crabbe and Goyle?"

"Minions," I replied with ease. He chuckled and listed off a few other names, some from our year, some from years lower and I just shook my head. "Minions, all of them. They fear me, they do what I tell them, but none of them would voluntarily spend time in my presence."

"What about Blaise?" he suggested and I could tell he was being devious.

"Looking to expand your sexual horizon already, Harry?" I goaded. "I thought I would be enough for you for a week at least."

He rolled his eyes gently squeezed my thigh under the table. "You're plenty," he assured. "It would be…interesting…to talk to your ex."

"He's not my ex," I pointed out. "I let him suck my cock, _once_, that hardly justifies a relationship."

Harry's face flushed beautifully and he laughed. "Pansy then?"

"Oh, that would go brilliantly," I muttered. "So, Pansy, meet Harry, my boyfriend. That's right, you were so horrid you made me gay!"

"Stop," Harry laughed and swatted me again. "You're such a prat."

"Hence the lack of friends," I muttered and he winced slightly.

"I'm sorry-" he began but I was in no mood for a pity party, not even from Harry, so I brushed it aside and smiled as falsely as I could.

"I'm not worried about it, Harry. All those Slytherins glaring at us are in my past. They would hurt you if they could; even kill you if they had a chance. Hell, they might even try to hurt me now, but I won't let them near you. Not for anything," I told him honestly. "It's for the best that I count none of them as my friends. Loyal lapdogs to the Dark Lord are all they'll ever be."

"And you?" he whispered, and I could tell there was so much more behind that statement than those two simple words could convey.

"I'm decidedly not," I answered truthfully and he seemed to let out a relieved breath. Pain laced through my heart as I saw doubt flicker through his eyes. He had every right to doubt me, by all accounts he should, but it didn't hurt any less to see it. I tucked a lock of his soft, raven hair behind his ear and took his jaw in my palm, lifting his face to look at me. "I'm not his man, Harry. I won't ever betray you. No matter what you might see or hear about me, my loyalties lay with you, not the Dark Lord."

He swallowed thickly and nodded. "Can he hurt you?"

"Yes," I replied without hesitation.

"Will he?"

"There is no doubt in my mind that if he finds out about you and I that he'll kill me," I told him. I kept the fact that it would be a slow and painful death to myself because Harry probably already assumed as much, and I really didn't care to say it out loud or worry him further if he didn't.

"Draco," he hissed, "you should have told me. We could have kept this quiet."

"I don't want that," I replied firmly. "I want you and they can all go jump in the Black Lake if they don't like it. I have ways of shutting them up for now…nothing too unseemly," I assured him at his wide-eyed look.

"I can't let you get hurt because of me," he whispered, looking on the verge of tears.

"Hush," I told him sharply. "What's done is done. I'll keep myself out of harms way if you promise to do the same." He nodded and I changed the subject. "Why don't you and I slip away somewhere?" I offered, leaning in to nibble his earlobe.

"Okay," he conceded with no further prompting and we left the Great Hall under the watchful eyes of several students and probably even a few staff members. I knew a fair few of the professors considered Harry important, possibly even like family, so I'm sure they were wary of him spending so much time with me lately.

As if on cue, Dumbledore greeted us in the corridor just outside the entrance. "Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter, how are you both this evening?" he asked lightly, as if there was no hidden agenda to his words.

"Fine, Sir," we both answered in unison and then smiled at one another.

"Excellent, excellent," he said, but not as if he meant it. "Harry, I was wondering if I might have a word with you in my office, in, say, twenty minutes?"

"Er…sure," he replied, fidgeting slightly beside me. "What about?"

"Oh, just this and that," he replied vaguely and glided back inside the Great Hall.

"He's going to talk to you about me, isn't he?" I asked him glumly, as Harry pulled us along toward Dumbledore's office.

"Maybe," he replied, just a sullenly. What was I going to do if he forbade Harry from seeing me? What would he do? It's not like either of us could just tell the Headmaster to sod off, as much as I might like to.

"I'm surprised he didn't try to separate us sooner," I grumbled.

"What do you mean? Do you think that's what he's planning?" Harry asked and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Stop being naïve, Harry. You and I are the only two people in the entire school that actually _want_ us together. Everyone else would far prefer us to go back to being enemies," I replied.

"Well, I suppose it's a good thing that none of them get a say then, isn't it?" he replied defiantly and I couldn't help myself as I pinned him against the wall and ravished his mouth. He moaned for me and the sound caused me to clutch at his hips as if I could pull him inside of me right then. "Wow," he breathed when I finally released him.

"Just remember that when the Headmaster tells you to leave off from me," I told him with a weighted gaze. "Remember that kiss and remember that I love you."

"I can do that," he replied with a wink as he disappeared down the corridor that would lead to the Headmasters office. I didn't follow, as much as I would have liked to. It was getting close to curfew anyhow and I shouldn't push my luck.

I wound my way through the labyrinth of the dungeons thinking about the last few days. We were a couple, Harry and I, bound in a way I could have never imagined. We had fun together, we were fiery and passionate and I didn't want to give any of it up. But, perhaps I should. Maybe Dumbledore and the rest of the school were right. Maybe I was being selfish by keeping him.

I rolled my eyes at my own thoughts. I already knew I was being selfish. If I was as clever as I had always claimed I would use my advantage and turn Harry over to Voldemort. I'd already gotten what I wanted, after all…mostly. But just the thought of doing such a thing now that I had him made my gut twist and burn uncomfortably. Part of me wished I could be as cold-hearted as my father; I would certainly live longer if I hadn't inherited so much of my mother's softness. I was weak, careless and unworthy of the Malfoy name, but Harry loved me, so perhaps I was worthy of him and that was enough for me.

I had been making my way to my dorm, but at the last moment, I veered paths, heading instead to my godfather's private quarters. "Boomslang skin," I whispered to the door and it opened for me.

"I don't recall telling you that you could enter my rooms without previous permission," Snape intoned from his armchair by the fireplace. He was sipping an amber liquid from a crystal goblet and didn't bother to look at me, his gaze intent on the fire.

"I'll remember that next time, I promise," I replied sarcastically and took a seat across from him. "I need your opinion."

I phrased the request exactly how I meant it. I didn't want his opinion - I needed it. I needed to know that there was one person aside from Harry on my side in this school, someone I could turn to when the other Slytherins turned on me as I was sure they would sooner or later. I didn't want to drag Harry any deeper into my mess than necessary because I wasn't lying when I told him that they would kill him if they could. It was an order mandated by the Dark Lord himself, and while most students weren't foolish enough to attempt the task inside the walls of Hogwarts, few still were.

Personally, I had always thought it was a fool's errand to try to kill him myself. I knew that on the surface Voldemort simply wanted his rival dead, but deep down the monster wanted to be the one to deliver the final blow, and anyone who dealt it for him – a task he had tried and failed at several times now - would become a threat to him and his fearsome reputation and be executed themselves. Such was the twisted mind of the Dark Lord; issue an order and then reward victory with death.

"I'm listening," he replied.

"Harry and I are together," I began.

"So I have deducted by your simpering Hufflepuff behavior at meals," he sneered.

I rolled my eyes and pressed on. "I think that right this moment the Headmaster is trying to persuade him not to continue seeing me."

"That sounds rather meddlesome," Snape replied.

"You don't think he'd do that?" I asked and Snape merely smirked.

"No, I think you're dead right. Meddlesome is one of Albus' many middle names," he replied and gestured that I go on.

"The Slytherins all know," I stated and I knew he would know what that meant.

"They have for some time now. They've been murmuring amongst themselves on what to do about it. They think you're betraying them, which I have an inkling is correct," he stated and then turned to gaze at me pointedly. "Am I right, or have you come to me to arrange transport for the boy to Malfoy Manor?"

"No!" I replied, my voice laced with anger as I stood to ward my godfather off. Coming here was obviously a mistake.

He merely sighed and shook his head in dismay. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen," he mused without so much as stirring in his chair, but I remained on the defensive. "Sit down and stop being foolish. I have no intention of rushing off to capture your beloved," he ordered, the final words hissed as if they were poisonous.

"Where do your loyalties lay, Godfather?" I asked, carefully reminding him of his duty to me, however minor it might be.

He narrowed his eyes, studying me for a long while. "With Dumbledore and the Order," he replied at last.

I was probably gaping, but I couldn't bring myself to care. "The Order of the Phoenix is real, then?" I asked, not terribly surprised that he wasn't loyal to Voldemort. I'd suspected as much for a couple of years now, given his affinity to offer only vague and sometimes outright false information to the Dark Lord. The problem with that was, if I suspected it, so did others.

He rolled his eyes at me and set down his glass. "You mean to tell me your scar-headed lover hasn't told you all about it? I thought Potter was weak for you."

"I've never asked him for information about the war," I spat. I didn't like having our relationship called into question. Disparaging my own choices and Snape doing the same were two very different things.

"You really are smitten," he murmured, as if the idea of my having honest feelings for the boy had been out of reach to Snape before now.

"I love him," I confirmed factually, trying not to sound too sappy about it but rather speaking of my affection as if commenting on the latest trend in wizarding fashion. "Such as it is, I want him protected, even if it means protecting him from myself. Am I foolish for being with him?" I asked, not entirely sure I wanted the answer.

"Yes," he replied easily, "but love is always foolish. At the best of times it hurts, at the worst of times it's crippling, yet most of us are masochistic enough to come back for it again and again. You and Potter are a unique pair. You each have a tenuous position of power on opposite sides of a terrible war. He could use you against Voldemort - or at least your father, which is almost as good - just as easily as you could use him."

The thought that Harry might have been using me from the start had never occurred to me and I realized how blinded I had been through my courting him. Were his feelings genuine? Was Dumbledore calling him to his office to see what information he'd been able to glean from me? Was he just waiting for me to spill all I knew so he could turn it over to the Order and cast me aside?

"So, Harry's part of the Order?" I asked.

"Not officially, but many hopes sit on his shoulders. If you ask me it's rather cruel to hinge so much on a teenage boy, but the same has been done to you by my own people, so who am I to cast stones?" he replied. "Harry is meant to kill Voldemort, and he will probably die in the process."

"No," I breathed and shook my head furiously. "I won't let that happen."

"You'll have no option but to let it happen if you get yourself killed before the war comes to us," Snape replied sharply. "Do whatever you can to convince your housemates that you're not on Harry's side, that you're acting under Voldemort's orders."

"And you?" I asked anxiously.

"I'll do what I must to maintain my position as spy and keep your head on your shoulders at the same time. Most of your Housemates still trust me, they'll listen when I tell them you're Voldemort's man," he replied, making sure I knew it was a great inconvenience to him to be helping me.

"Thank you," I replied and he just sneered back at me.

"You'll owe me another favor, Godson," he mocked.

I nodded and escaped his room while I could. I was the only one he'd tolerate backtalk from, but there was only a certain extent he'd allow even from me. My head was full of questions when I left, causing it to ache and throb worse than ever, which was the only reason I could give for having not heard the footsteps approach behind me and having not known something was off until I was Hexed from behind and lost consciousness.

Author's Note: So yes, many of you predicted Draco might win the impromptu match, but how many of you expected this?!


	18. Harry: Consequences

Author's Note: Laurel's turn!

Chapter 18 – Harry – Consequences

I found Quidditch to be much more fun than I remembered and losing to Draco was not nearly as bad as I thought it would be. I remember deciding in second year, when Draco became the Slytherin Seeker, that I would rather have Hagrid accidently sit on me and not notice for hours than to have Draco beat me to the Snitch. But as it turns out, losing to him was a rather pleasant experience. _Extremely pleasant_. Who knew showering could be so much fun?

Everything in my life seemed to shine in a way it never had before I allowed Draco into my heart. He made me feel like I could achieve anything and suddenly my life didn't seem so hopeless anymore. His presence contented me and I felt myself wanting nothing more than him – as if I could eat, sleep and breathe Draco Malfoy.

I know well that saying about 'carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders'; it has rung true for me even before Dumbledore confirmed my destiny with Sybil Trelawney's unexpected prediction before I was even born. I have felt that weight for some time now pressing down on me, crushing my spirit and all the hopes I had once carried for my future. But Draco seemed to have removed all my burdens and I felt light as air. My aching shoulders were finally able to relax and I felt safe and loved for the first time in my life.

His hand was secure in mine as we walked together to the Great Hall for dinner; it had been a few days since we had gotten together and by now the whole school knew about us. Since facing Ron on Sunday morning, we hadn't talked much further and I still wasn't sure where I stood with him or my other Gryffindor housemates, but I was strangely calm about it. It's not that I didn't want to make up with him, or that I didn't care either way – I did care quite a lot really, I was desperate to have my best friends back the way we used to be – but I felt like it would be okay whatever was to happen because I would have Draco at my side.

I gazed over at him as I contemplated the new side of his character that I was experiencing now. He was still all the things I always thought him to be; hotheaded, impulsive, and sharp tongued. He was all the things I'd found him to be in the last few weeks; determined, possessive, and demanding. But, I was beginning to see that he had another layer to him as well; he was tender, selfless, and endearingly vulnerable.

Right now though, the most appropriate description for him would be 'troubled'. "What's wrong, Love?" I asked him. I had hoped he felt as carefree as I had the last few days, but obviously this was not the case.

"Nothing," he replied, trying to shake away my concerns with his head, and a quick smile. I gave him a pointed look so he knew I wasn't even remotely convinced and he was forced to confess. "I'm just worried about what vengeance people might decide to take against us for being together."

Draco's words settled on me and I felt like a foolish little girl letting my feelings and fantasies run away with me while Draco was obviously still in touch with the reality of our situation. "You mean Mike?" I asked. I had thought about him briefly, probably not as much as somebody with a decent conscience would have, but he had been on my mind. I hoped he was okay; I hadn't seen him since… well, yeah… since last Saturday. Mike was obviously on Draco's mind too, but for other reasons. "I don't think we need to worry about him. He'll probably avoid us altogether if he can," I assured my new boyfriend. Mike was a good person, it was one of the reasons I wanted to like him so much, but I suppose even good people can turn crazy if they get their heart broken badly enough.

"You have Charms with him tomorrow," he reminded me and I cringed.

"I know." It wasn't an ideal situation, especially since Mike and I had been sitting together for so long now I didn't think we'd be able to switch with anyone this late in the term.

"I could probably get you out of it if you like?" he asked me and I looked over at him to see his face just to make sure he was serious. That was quite an authoritative offer he was making me.

"And how would you do that?" I asked him skeptically.

"I have a bit of pull with Severus," he admitted, shrugging easily as though it were nothing.

Instead of bringing me clarity, his answer only confused me further. It was such a ridiculous notion that anybody could be on good terms with a persistently angry man like Snape that I couldn't help but laugh. "I've only heard Dumbledore and McGonagall call him by his first name, and usually it was when they were cross with him."

Draco laughed along with me and my heart beat faster at the ease of it. "He's my godfather," he explained to me at last, but it still didn't make sense.

"How in Merlin's name did that happen?"

"His father and mine are… friends… sort of," he answered me. "They're as close as De – er – Slytherins get anyhow." He stumbled over his words, an unusual occurrence for somebody as articulate as Draco, but I had a fairly good idea about what he had narrowly avoided telling me. It was a concern obviously, but not something I wished to address just yet. We had only been together for a few days. I remembered well the exact reason why I had let myself get close to Draco – to use him for his connections – and I still fully intended to take advantage of them if I could, but it was not something I needed to do immediately. It could wait… for a while at least.

"I have to go to Charms at some point," I pointed out, diverting back to our original topic of conversation. It was more of an immediate concern of mine at this moment; Voldemort was far away from Hogwarts and far away from my mind as long as Draco was close to me. The psychotic snake had ruined my life for the last sixteen years and I would be damned if I was going to let him ruin my happiness now. "Even someone like Snape couldn't get me out of Charms permanently."

"What do you think you're going to do when you see him?" he asked me.

"I really don't know. I feel like rubbish for what I did to him, but I would have felt worse if I'd gone through with it," I said, feeling miserable all over again.

"So, no regrets?" he questioned, still sounding unsure of himself. When was he going to have some faith in me? I'd already told him my heart was his; he would have it until he gave it back because I would never ask for it. I never wanted it back from him.

"I can't believe you'd ask me that after what just happened in the locker room," I quipped, my mouth falling open as though he'd deeply offended me.

"I'm not typically so insecure," he replied, trying to sound smug to keep in with the joke, but he didn't quite get there. He was still worried about my feelings for him.

"You mean with all the other people you've dated?" I tried to tease, but I didn't quite make it either. I guess we were both worried, but perhaps it's natural for a new relationship.

"No, I meant in general, but yes. I've never been in a relationship before where I wasn't entirely in control," he confessed, and it twisted my stomach into knots.

"But you've had a lot of them," I told myself more than him. I knew I had to accept it, just as he had to accept my past with Ginny and Mike.

"I've had a few," he answered evasively. Was there some reason he didn't want me to know?

I couldn't help myself, my mind warned me not to pry but I had to ask. I pulled him into a more private spot away from all the other students; it was a tight fit, but I didn't care, I had to know. "How many?"

"Harry," he whined, obviously he didn't want to talk about it, and my anxiety heightened.

"So, a lot then." My throat felt tight. I didn't care really, it wouldn't change my mind about being with him, but I wanted to feel special, not just one of many.

"Not a lot," he told me, sighing as he gave in to my need to know his sexual history. "I've never gotten more than a blowjob from another guy, and I've never given any more than a kiss. I've been with a couple girls."

"Who?" I pressed, and his head fell back uncomfortably; he wasn't happy.

"Pansy and Daphne," he confessed. "The other guy was Blaise, who is quite jealous of you I must say." He tried to make a joke of it and I wanted to let him, but my heart was still processing this new knowledge.

"That's better than I thought," I replied. I was a little relieved to be honest.

He relaxed at my obvious acceptance and he leaned in to kiss me. "You assumed I was some kind of lothario?"

"Well, look at you," I said uncomfortably. He was Godly after all, he could have had anybody he wanted, and at sixteen, that was quite a temptation; I just assumed he'd given in to it.

Despite the small space we were in, he managed to gather me into his arms so quickly I gasped at the unexpectedness of the movement. He claimed my mouth possessively and my body refused to let me do anything except melt into him. He tasted just as good as he had the first time and every other time after; he was very quickly becoming my favourite flavour.

"I've never felt this before you, Harry," he murmured into my mouth; I could feel his body heat emanating off his skin. "I've never been willing to risk it all on another person, and believe me when I say there is a lot to risk. If I were the Malfoy my father wants me to be I would have never pursued you."

He was completely sincere in his sentiment and I knew what this meant to him. I wasn't a joke, or an experiment; he was completely serious about me. Of course, I knew this already, but it didn't take away any of the impact of his words. I could feel every breath rise in my chest as I asked him a question I'd been pondering for some time. "So, then why did you?"

He paused, considering his next words and I waited with bated breath. You can imagine, then, how unimpressed I was to receive his answer. "Because you've got the nicest arse in Hogwarts," he said. Still, I couldn't help but want to laugh; it was such a stupid answer to such a serious question.

I kissed him tenderly. I would let him get away with that for now. He'd confessed enough to me for one evening. I knew we had a lot to talk about, but right now it felt as though we had the rest of our lives to talk.

--

Draco sat with me at the Gryffindor table that night at dinner in the same spot I had occupied during my weeks of exile, and once again we were sitting alone. I didn't mind, I loved being alone with him, but I could see Hermione and Ron sitting further down the table with some of my old friends and I wondered whether they thought I should be sitting with them instead. I wondered to myself if I even _wanted _to be sitting with them. I didn't want to be without Draco at all, but he told me himself after he caught me watching them that he wouldn't come with me. _It's between the three of you_, he told me, but never mind the fact that he would rather cut off his own arm than make nice with a Weasley. Then again, a few months ago I would have said the same of him making nice with me.

I looked over at him as he was telling me how much he wanted to Hex everyone who hurt me, his eyes were burning with a fierce protectiveness and my affection for him washed over me anew. "I love you," I told him honestly. I didn't really mean to say it, but I meant it all the same. I'd never told Mike I loved him – probably because I didn't – but since the first time I'd told Draco, it was like I'd broken an 'I love you' dam inside of me and it was all flooding out of my mouth. In my mind, every time I looked at him I thought it.

He diverted the conversation back to my friends and I decided I should wait until I was invited back to sit with them, rather than assuming I'd be welcome after only a small, mildly civil conversation with Ron. Draco agreed. But all this talk of my friends had me wondering about his, he certainly hadn't introduced me to any or even mentioned them.

"What should we do tonight?" I asked him, trying to take my mind off Hermione and Ron, while also planning to lead him into agreeing to let me meet his friends.

"I'm sure I could find a way to take your mind off of Weasley and Granger," he whispered seductively in my ear. The vibrations of his voice and warm breath shot a shiver down my spine and I felt my groin begin to warm.

"I'm sure you could," I agreed hooking my foot around his underneath the table, and while I was very keen to let him do with me as he pleased I still had other things in mind; the sex would come afterwards. "What about your friends? We could hang out with them tonight," I tried to sound casual and not desperate to know he wasn't ashamed of introducing his Gryffindor boyfriend to his Slytherin friends.

"I don't have any friends, Harry," he told me and I frowned in disbelief; how could that be true?

"What about Crabbe and Goyle?"

"Minions," he answered easily as though it were a common occurrence to have 'minions'. He was such a Slytherin! No wonder he was their King, or Prince, or whatever it was everybody called him. I listed off everyone I could remember seeing him with over the years, including some made up names and shonky descriptions of people I couldn't attach to a name. "Minions, all of them," he repeated. "They fear me, they do what I tell them, but none of them would voluntarily spend time in my presence."

I couldn't believe he didn't have any friends. Who did he confide in? Who did he have fun with? I missed my friends like a lost limb when we stopped talking. I'd heard once before that people who had lost a limb could sometimes still feel it even though it wasn't there; well that's exactly what it was like with Hermione and Ron. I could still feel them sometimes, as if they were sitting next to me, or laughing or nagging in my head, but they never were. Even after all this hurt, I couldn't imagine not having them. How did Draco cope without close friends?

I even asked about his exes, perhaps he was still friends with them. But he assured me he wasn't. "Oh, that would go brilliantly," he scoffed. "So, Pansy, meet Harry, my boyfriend. That's right, you were so horrid you made me gay!"

"Stop," I laughed and I slapped him playfully on his arm. "You're such a prat."

"Hence the lack of friends," he shrugged and I cringed. So it did bother him more than he let on…

"I'm sorry-" I started to apologize for my insensitivity, but he wouldn't let me.

"I'm not worried about it, Harry. All those Slytherins glaring at us are in my past. They would hurt you if they could; even kill you if they had a chance. Hell, they might even try to hurt me now, but I won't let them near you. Not for anything," he explained, squashing once and for all any desire I had to meet any of them. "It's for the best that I count none of them as my friends. Loyal lapdogs to the Dark Lord are all they'll ever be."

"And you?" I asked. I couldn't help myself, I know I'd decided to wait to talk about this stuff, but the opening was there and while I trusted him completely, I still needed to hear him say it.

"I'm decidedly not," he answered, and I felt myself relax at his words. I hadn't even known I was tense. Still, he might not be one of them but he was certainly among them; his whole life was infected with the Dark Lords presence. His fingertips grazed my forehead and then ran through my hair before his hands guided my face to look up at him. "I'm not his man, Harry. I won't ever betray you. No matter what you might see or hear about me, my loyalties lay with you, not the Dark Lord."

I could tell he meant it, but there was something in the determination in his voice that sounded… resigned. It scared me. "Can he hurt you?"

"Yes," he told me without a moment's hesitation and I felt sick.

"Will he?" I asked. I knew it was a stupid question, Voldemort would kill his own grandmother if she displeased him – in fact, I knew he had! – but a desperate part of me hoped that Draco might be spared for some unlikely reason.

"There is no doubt in my mind that if he finds out about you and I that he'll kill me," he told me. It was obvious he had thought about this before, possibly before we got together; he knew this would be a death sentence for him and yet he did it anyway… and now _everyone knew! _God. I was so stupid, how could I let this happen?

"Draco," I hissed at him. I should have seen this possibility for myself, but since I was so wrapped up in my own feelings like a stupid teenage girl I was also mad at him for not telling me when he'd so clearly given this quite a bit of thought. "You should have told me. We could have kept this quiet."

"I don't want that," he replied surely. "I want you and they can all go jump in the Black Lake if they don't like it. I have ways of shutting them up for now… nothing too unseemly."

I was horrified at the possible consequences of our actions, and part of me didn't care what he did to them to keep them quiet. He could cut out their tongues, and at this point – if it saved his life – I would help him do it. "I can't let you get hurt because of me," I whispered, I could feel tears pricking my eyes. I couldn't lose him, not for _any_ reason, but to think I might lose him from my own carelessness was even harder to imagine.

"Hush," he soothed me. "What's done is done. I'll keep myself out of harms way if you promise to do the same." I nodded; I would promise him anything if he would agree to keep himself safe from anyone wanting to hurt him. "Why don't you and I slip away somewhere?" he suggested, leaning in close to suck on my ear.

"Okay," I agreed quickly. I'd had enough of dinner, and I'd had enough of people watching us interact. I just wanted to be alone with him, I was hurting after our conversation and I could do with a comforting distraction and the soothing words he would be able to offer me in private.

We got up from our table and tried to slip quietly from the Great Hall, but the headmaster apparently had other ideas. He cut us off at the entrance and greeted us warmly. "Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter, how are you both this evening?"

"Fine, Sir," we answered in chorus.

"Excellent, excellent," he replied. "Harry, I was wondering if I might have a word with you in my office, in, say, twenty minutes?"

"Er…sure," I agreed, twisting my hands together. "What about?" I didn't really want to go, I wasn't sure what he wanted to talk about and I had much more important things to be doing like seeing how many different noises I could get Draco to make when I nibbled on his perfect pale flesh just right.

"Oh, just this and that," Dumbledore answered in his usual frustrating way, never actually telling me anything. He wandered off dreamily leaving Draco and I alone.

"He's going to talk to you about me, isn't he?" he asked. He looked a little worried about it to be honest, and it made me worried too. We started making our way slowly up to the headmaster's office.

"Maybe," I replied, not really sure, but not feeling confident about what he was going to say. Perhaps it had nothing to do with Draco, maybe it was Order business, or a new lead they'd found on Voldemort's whereabouts that might keep me from having to use my connection to Draco in order to find the monster.

"I'm surprised he didn't try to separate us sooner," Draco mumbled, and I balked.

"What do you mean? Do you think that's what he's planning?" I blurted anxiously.

"Stop being naïve, Harry. You and I are the only two people in the entire school that actually _want_ us together. Everyone else would far prefer us to go back to being enemies," he replied bitterly, and I thought it came out rather harshly to be honest.

"Well, I suppose it's a good thing that none of them get a say then, isn't it?" I said firmly, hoping it would be enough to encourage him to have some faith in our relationship, rather than believing we were doomed before we'd even really started.

It seemed to work rather well, better than I'd planned actually, as he pushed me roughly into the stone wall and kissed me hard. I moaned with desire as my body heated up almost immediately. I wanted to jump up and wrap my legs around his waist so that he could pin me to this wall and enter me right here. I didn't care than anybody could come along and see us because right then it was only him and me in the whole castle. "Wow," I gasped when he finally released me.

"Just remember that when the Headmaster tells you to leave off from me," he told me seriously. "Remember that kiss and remember that I love you."

"I can do that," I promised, and I threw him a wink for good measure so he would know I intended to finish what he'd started just then as soon as I was free of Dumbledore.

I headed down the corridor that lead to his office and just as I was wondering what the password was to get in, the winding Phoenix staircase opened up for me to step inside. That man knew everything that went on within his castle walls and it was seriously creepy sometimes. I stepped inside and went up to see my aged headmaster, hoping the meeting was nothing to worry about.

"Harry," he greeted me. "Thank you for coming to see me. Cockroach cluster?"

"No, thank you, Sir." I sat down in the chair opposite him and I remembered the last time I was here. I yelled at him; it was just after Sirius had died. My heart seized.

"How is everything going for you?" he asked me sincerely. "I regret to say that I have rather neglected you this year. I understand you've been having some trouble with your housemates?"

"Some trouble, yes, Sir," I nodded, but didn't want to elaborate; chances are he knew everything anyway. The whole school knew. "But I think I'm starting to sort that out."

"Good, good," he smiled slightly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I'm glad to hear it. And you're Ravenclaw friends?"

"You mean Michael Corner, Sir?" I asked, knowing from his tone, and then small smile at my response, that he did. "He was my boyfriend actually, we dated for a few months, but we aren't seeing each other anymore."

"Oh, well, I'm sorry to hear that," he replied, and he did look genuinely sorry.

"Its okay, Professor, it was my decision," I said, trying to reassure him that I was not hurt from my split with Mike.

"Yes, well, break ups are difficult nonetheless," he mused. "I did wonder about your newfound friendship with Mr. Malfoy. I was under the impression you did not get along with him very well."

"No, Sir, I'm afraid you're mistaken," I answered him surely; it was true for many years we didn't get along, but those years were void now. I loved him. "We get along very well."

"Ah, so I imagined all those detentions you served with him for fighting in class, the practical jokes, and verbal abuse?" he challenged me; his tone was light, but there was a slight edge to it that I did not miss.

"We have had some… _misunderstandings _over the years, but I assure you we do get along extremely well," I answered tightly. I didn't like where this was going at all and I was starting to think Draco had been right about what Dumbledore wanted.

"I worry about your _friendshi__p_ with him, Harry," he said heavily. "His family has very strong connections with Lord Voldemort. Are you sure you know what you are doing with him?"

"I am absolutely sure about everything I am doing with him," I retorted sharply. I felt my face heat in anger, but I was trying to restrain myself from shouting at him that this was _none of his business!_

"I cannot forbid you to see him, but-"

"That's right you can't forbid me! And even if you could-!" I was yelling before I really knew what I was doing, but I stopped myself quickly. I might not have liked what he was saying to me, but I still respected him.

"I know what it feels like to be in love, and I also know what it feels like to be betrayed by that love," he told me and I could see in his sad blue eyes he was telling me the truth. I didn't want him prying into my love life, so I wasn't about to pry into his.

"He won't betray me," I said softly, but surely. "He loves me, I can tell. He's risking everything. They would kill him for this, you know? He would die just to be with me." My voice cracked as I said this and I felt the truth of my statement like a dagger to my heart.

"How can you be sure they didn't plan this?" Dumbledore challenged, and I felt my rage boil in me again. I had just told him Draco might die and he didn't even care. "How can you be sure he's not luring you into some kind of trap? You need to be careful with him, Harry."

"It is not a trap!" I screeched and even as I did I remembered Remus saying the same thing only a few short weeks ago. I remembered the doubt I felt when he asked me if I was sure, and I felt guilty. But, if I wasn't sure then I certainly was now. "You cannot tell me what to do. I would let him blindfold me and lead me anywhere he chose because I love him and I _trust him!_"

"Harry, do _not _be foolish!" he demanded, raising his voice for the first time. "Do not throw your life away because you were careless with your heart!"

"I am not a fool! Draco is true to me and he will prove it!" I announced, standing from my chair and preparing to leave. I wouldn't stay to hear him disparage my relationship. "And when he does it will be _you _who is the fool." And at these words I turned and marched from his office, not heeding even once his calls for me to stop.

--

The further I got away from Dumbledore's office the more my anger seemed to rise. I replayed our conversation in my mind and his words seemed to sound worse each time. He didn't know anything about me, and it was obvious he didn't care. If he cared about my _feelings _he would have checked on me when he learned of my banishment from Gryffindor by my housemates, but he didn't. As soon as it involves _Voldemort _though, he becomes all _concerned_. Well, _fuck him! _He can't pick and choose when he gets to have a say in my life…

I took a deep breath to try to calm myself. I was heading down to the dungeons to see Draco and I knew if he saw me so upset he'd probably try to Hex Dumbledore himself! I had raged to myself most of the way to the Slytherin common room and I had barely noticed I was already nearly there. I didn't care if all of Slytherin saw me calling on Draco, I didn't care that it was past curfew, or that I had to be up early tomorrow morning for class; I just needed to see him, even for a moment.

I banged loudly on the wall that hid the Slytherin quarters and it opened almost immediately. It was a fourth year boy, a real prat, I'd seen him around picking on other students – all younger and smaller than him, just like Dudley. "Draco Malfoy," I stated not offering him any pleasantries.

"Here for a bit of glitter fairy arse love, are you Potter?" he smirked at me and I sneered back at him, hoping my reputation and Draco's would be enough to spur him into action. He flinched, but nothing more.

"Piss off, Potter," another voice snapped and I looked behind the boy to see Pansy Parkinson walking up to me. "Draco doesn't want you here."

"I have it on good authority that he does, Parkinson," I retorted harshly. "Please be so kind as to fetch him for me."

"No."

"He won't be pleased tomorrow morning when I tell him that I tried to call on him and _you lot _wouldn't let me past," I threatened. Draco told me earlier that he had something over them, and I hoped his power over them extended to me too.

"What makes you think you will see him tomorrow morning?" she sneered and chuckled slightly. My blood turned cold in my veins and I knew immediately something was wrong.

"What have you done, you psycho bitch!?" I shouted, trying to lunge at her, but the boy was ready and he shoved me back into the corridor with a strength I hadn't been expecting and before I could blink the wall had shut in my face.

For a moment I couldn't breathe, but I knew I couldn't worry about something as trivial as breathing when Draco was probably in trouble. I clumsily clambered to my feet and took off in a desperate run straight up to Gryffindor Tower. It seemed to take forever – too long to get to my dorm – every stair was one stair too many and my mind was racing. Why did we have to sleep on opposite ends of the castle? What could they have done with him? Where would he be? Who would have taken him? My panic escalated as I realized the truest answers to those questions were _anything, anywhere, and anybody._

I sprinted through the crowded common room and up into my dorm. I barely noticed that Ron was sitting on his bed reading. I dove into my trunk, flinging out all my belongings as I looked for the one thing that might show me where Draco was.

"Woah, calm down there, Harry," I heard someone say. "What's the rush?"

"Um, I – urgh," I couldn't even speak. I looked up briefly to see Ron standing next to me, and I cracked. After all the terrifying conversations I'd had with Draco, and then admitting it to Dumbledore, I couldn't hold it in anymore. Tears sprung from my eyes and suddenly I couldn't see anything but a blur of shapes and colours. _Draco might be dead._ The possibility circled around and around in my mind.

"Merlin, Harry! What's happened?" Ron gasped and he grabbed at me; one of his hands on each of my shoulders. He shook me a little and I choked on a sob.

"Draco – they have him, he's – he's gone," I broke down and sunk to the floor. Ron lost his grip on me and I was alone. My mind was racing, I kept telling myself I needed to be strong. I needed to clear my head, get up, get the map and my cloak, and be the hero for my beloved. _Hero. _I fucking hated that word. People used it so much when they spoke about me, and when the man I loved needed me the most, I was left whimpering in a heap on the floor like Moaning Myrtle.

Ron seemed to know what to do though, he left me there crying as he continued to search through my belongings; he retrieved my map and my cloak. He opened the map and searched it for a few seconds – I wanted to see what it said, I needed to know where Draco was, but I couldn't seem to move. Ron closed the map, gathered up my cloak, and pulled me to my feet.

"Come on," he ordered, and my body obeyed him. "He's in the dungeons with about fifteen other Slytherins; they're either having some kind of party or your boy is in deep shit."

My breath caught in my throat and I didn't know what to say. _Draco was in deep shit. _I knew he wasn't having a party, not with them. I felt like I was going to throw up – I wanted to, I thought that if I did my brain might start to function again and I could focus on rescuing him. Before I could even think about heaving, Ron had grabbed me and shoved me out of the room and down the stairs. Hermione saw us both enter the common room and after looking us over she followed us both out wordlessly; she knew right away something was wrong. Once outside we took off for the dungeons at a jog, not bothering to conceal ourselves under my cloak since we had no time to be sneaking carefully anywhere. As we moved Ron explained to Hermione that we thought Draco might be in trouble and we were going to check on him. He made it sound so casual, like we were checking 'just in case', not because we were sure he was in danger. I was sure.

The cool air outside seemed to refresh me and as we ran along the corridors the air blew on my face drying my tears and setting my resolve to rescue my boyfriend. My mind pushed out all my hurt, anger, and fear, and replaced it with determination, surety, and my trusty Gryffindor Courage. With every step I told myself I was getting closer to Draco and I began to feel ashamed that I'd given him up for dead so quickly, but I pushed that negative feeling away. It wouldn't help me here, I needed to stay positive or I would lose myself again. Ron seemed to notice the change in me. "Doing alright there, Harry?" he asked.

"Never better," I replied in a deadpan tone. I was concentrating; I didn't have time to talk.

The three of us flew noisily down the last set of stairs and into the dungeons. I wasn't thinking about the lateness of the hour or how much noise we were making, until we were stopped by a very annoyed looking Professor Snape. He stood there like a wall between us and Draco; every second felt like it could be Draco's last and I was just standing here wondering how to get past my hateful Potions Master.

"Well, well, well," he chanted. "This is a surprise, I thought you're Golden Group had been disbanded, Potter?"

"Professor, we need to get by!" I exclaimed, but he didn't even flinch.

"Imagine my surprise while I was up grading papers and hear what I could have _sworn _was an army of dragons stampeding down the hall," he mused sarcastically. "As it turns out, it was you three. But, I suppose I shouldn't be _that_ surprised, you have the grace of a dragon, Potter."

"Professor, its Draco! He's in some kind of trouble; you have to let me pass!" I begged him. The look on his face surprised me, it was one I hadn't seen on him before; _concern._ In an instant it clicked. Draco had told me only today that Snape was his godfather. I had to wonder: did he tell me so I would know to seek out the professor's help? Did he anticipate this somehow? "Please, you have to help me! I was supposed to meet him tonight and when he didn't show I went to the Slytherin dorms." It wasn't exactly true, but I didn't need it to be, I just needed it to be enough to get him to help me. "Pansy Parkinson practically _told me_ they had him and that 'he wouldn't be at breakfast tomorrow', those were her exact words."

"What makes you think you know where they have him?" he challenged me. I noticed he didn't say 'if' they have him, but 'where'; this made my heart lurch. Everything seemed to be pointing to Draco's imminent demise; my lover needed me and I was just standing here feeling desperate and helpless.

"I just know, _please,_" I pleaded again. "We have to hurry!"

"Lead the way then, Potter," he replied snarkily as though he wasn't too happy about letting me lead.

I nodded quickly and rushed forward as soon as he let me pass. I let Ron slip into his position at the front; I didn't know where Draco was exactly, so I was forced to trust my old friend. We wound further into the dungeons, deeper than I'd ever been before and Ron slowed his pace; he'd obviously never been here before either. He still had the map in his hands and he opened it to check our position. I glanced over his shoulder and so did Snape. We were close. Draco was just up ahead. I rushed forward and leapt at the unfamiliar door that the map promised held Draco inside. It was unlocked and I entered quickly and carelessly. My only thoughts were for him.

The first thing I saw was a crowd of students, some familiar some not, but I couldn't see Draco. I pushed through them and they noticed me for the first time. I shoved them roughly out of my way, caring little who they were. I couldn't see what Ron, Hermione, or Snape were doing now that I'd jumped ahead of them and I didn't much care. I heard shouts and yelling all around me, but it fell muffled on my ears; I had only one concern. A few people tried to grab at me, but I shoved them away and continued to push through. My heart was beating wildly and I felt nothing but blind panic coursing through my body.

I saw his hair first; his beautiful, golden hair. It was perfect, as it always was. But he wasn't moving. His skin was paler than usual, even the dim lighting couldn't hide that, and his mouth lolled open on his expressionless face. He wasn't visibly hurt; there was no blood, no broken or oddly bent limbs. Normally I would have found this comforting, but these were Slytherins, their specialty was maximum damage, minimum evidence. Blaise Zabini, Draco's ex-lover, was kneeling over him caressing his hips, arse, and thighs, looking smugly down at him like a hunter who'd just shot his prize deer. He was touching Draco like he was _his, _but he wasn't his. _Everyone knew he was mine!_

I could see it on his face that he was pleased to see Draco this way; hurt, helpless, and vulnerable to him. "I'm going to fucking _kill you!_" I screamed at him and then I leapt, tackling the lean Italian boy to the ground. I pinned him with my knees and punched him in the face. I punched him again, and again, losing myself in my rage at him for hurting Draco, for touching him. As blood began to pour from his nose I felt a twisted satisfaction in my gut, but it wasn't enough. I felt someone touch me carefully on my shoulder and I turned, finally relenting on Zabini's face.

Hermione stood there looking scared. I looked around and saw that the room was mostly empty; behind her I could see Snape carrying Draco out. Seeing Draco again seemed to snap me back into consciousness and I was suddenly acutely aware of what I was doing. Hermione pulled me off Zabini, who was now covered in blood, by my upper arm, and I went with her willingly, suddenly disgusted at myself. I could see Snape ahead of me levitating Draco in front of him, and I ran up to see if he was alright. Snape was moving quickly and his face was stern. "Draco!" I called out as I came up behind them. "Is he alright?" I asked, but Snape didn't respond. "Is he going to be okay? Tell me!" I demanded, but still he ignored me.

We wound up a familiar staircase, and he floated Draco awkwardly upwards. Draco looked paler than usual, he was still unconscious and his arm hung limply out beside him. I wanted to grab his hand and feel his soft smooth skin, but I didn't want to slow his journey to the Hospital Wing. Now that I had him here with me, I was sure he was going to be okay, he had to be; how would I survive without him? The answer to that was simple enough. I wouldn't.

"Tell me! Is he alright?" I asked Snape again sharply. I followed behind him desperately, telling myself that Draco _knew _he wasn't allowed to leave me. He wouldn't do something like that. "Snape!"

"Shut up, you stupid little brat!" Snape hissed at me. He pushed forward even faster and I ran to keep up. "This is all your fault! You Potters are always meddling in other people's lives, stealing hearts that were _never _yours to take! If you had stayed away from him, my godson wouldn't be fighting for his life right now!"

We had arrived at the entrance to the Hospital Wing and Snape pushed through the doors. I could hear him calling for Madam Pomfrey urgently, but I didn't follow him in. I had stopped immediately in mid-stride as soon as Snape had told me Draco was fighting for his life and that it was _my _fault. Everything in me shut down and I couldn't think. It was my fault. My fault. My fault.

I felt Hermione and Ron come up beside me, one on each side of me, and I was glad. Waves of hot air flushed over me and my head began to feel light and dizzy. The floor underneath me was unstable and the walls were rocking back and forth. "It's so hot in here," I commented just before everything went black.

--

I regained consciousness rather unpleasantly. Hermione and Ron were leaning over me shaking my shoulders roughly, and my head throbbed violently. I was still just outside the hospital wing but I was no longer upright, in fact I was staring at the cracked ceiling wondering why my body ached so much.

"You fainted," Hermione told me as she and Ron helped me to sit up. "Come on, we should get you inside."

"Draco," I whispered, and Hermione frowned sadly at me. She felt sorry for me but I couldn't take the time to be either warmed or offended by her obvious sentiment.

The two of them helped me into the mostly empty ward and sat me on one of the beds. Draco had obviously been taken into the examination room since Snape was pacing impatiently outside the exam room door. He glared at us as we came in, and I felt nauseas all over again.

Snape had been right; this was my fault. I should have stayed with Mike, I should have gone with my gut feeling that this relationship would be trouble for Draco and left him in peace. He wasn't making it easy for me to leave him alone, but I should have been strong enough to keep saying no.

I fell back on to the bed and covered my face with my hands before taking a few deep breaths. This was worse than I thought it would be. Now that there was a very real possibility Draco would die and I would be forced to live without his touch and sweet smile, I knew my worst fears were coming true. I thought it would kill me if he died, but it was worse than that because it didn't kill me. I was still alive and feeling every ounce of pain his potential death could cause me.

Hermione sat on the edge of the bed next to my face and began to stroke my hair. As soon as I felt her cool fingers graze my forehead, as Draco had done to me this morning, the tears started to flow relentlessly. I curled into her and she continued to gently comfort me with consistent pats. I could feel Ron sitting at my feet at the other end of the bed.

I cried until I had no tears left and my feelings soaked into my muscles making me numb. I didn't move, I just stayed there concentrating on the feel of the scratchy sheets underneath me and listening carefully to any movements from the examination room.

"Is he sleeping?" I heard Ron ask Hermione after several minutes.

"I think so, he hasn't moved or made a sound in a while," she answered him. She sounded weary.

"Can you believe this?" Ron sighed. "How the fuck did we get here?"

"What do you mean?" she asked. I knew what Ron meant, but I also knew why she was confused. This whole situation was fucked up; he could have been referring to anything. How did they end up here comforting me when we'd been fighting for so long? How did they end up here worrying about Draco Malfoy in the hospital wing?

"All of this," he whispered to her, obviously trying not to wake me. "Can you imagine what we would have done if someone had told us a year ago that Harry would date Ginny, then cheat on her, turn gay, fall in love with Draco Malfoy, and we would stop being friends?"

"I wouldn't have believed them," she replied.

"Me either. I would have told them they were crazy and I would never have treated Harry the way I did," he said in slight disbelief at his own words. "I would have told them there was no way he was gay, and even if he was, there was no way he'd go for a ferret like Malfoy."

"Ron!" Hermione hissed, scolding him for teasing Draco. Part of me wanted to laugh; I remembered how much he hated that name, but I sobered quickly when the thought struck me that he couldn't care about the name if he died tonight.

"Do you think he'll ever properly forgive us?" Ron asked weakly.

"I don't know," Hermione sighed, and I wanted to tell her I would, but I didn't know if that was true. Until I had Draco back in my arms, alive and well, I wouldn't know, or care, about much of anything.

I must have fallen asleep after that because the next thing I remember was feeling Hermione's fingers twist painfully in my hair, and Snape calling out to Draco's father.

"Lucius!" he greeted the older blond, and I sat up quickly to look over at him. My head felt dizzy at the quick movement, but I was so amazed to see Draco's father I didn't really notice. Lucius Malfoy glared at me with narrowed eyes as he entered and I watched him cross the floor. Snape led him into Pomfrey's office and I watched them both cautiously until they disappeared before flopping back down on to the bed.

Of course, Lucius would come, I told myself. Snape probably alerted him. Seeing him was a sharp reminder to me that, while it had felt like it recently, Draco didn't belong solely to me. He had a family, and, most likely, family responsibilities. He told me he was sure of me, but in the face of his father I wondered how sure he would remain.

If he survived.

My gut twisted again, tying the knots in my stomach even tighter – any more and I would be sick.

I closed my eyes and images of Draco's face appeared in my mind. They were beautiful images of times we were happy together; laughing, teasing, studying, looks of longing, and making love. They calmed me and I drifted back into a fitful sleep – I stirred at every noise and every movement.

Eventually – I'm not sure how long it had been since we'd arrived, or how late it was – Madam Pomfrey emerged. Snape and Lucius Malfoy were both gone and the ward was dark. Hermione and Ron were asleep; Hermione was lying next to me on the bed and Ron snoozed in a nearby armchair.

Pomfrey came over to me when she saw that I was awake and cast a few quiet spells over my body, checking my vitals I presumed; I could have told her myself that I was fine. As she did this, she spoke. "I can't let you see him, I'm afraid. Lucius Malfoy has forbidden it and until young Draco contradicts that order himself I will have to obey." I looked at her with hopeful eyes; it didn't sound like Draco had died if she was waiting for him to counter his father's orders. "Strictly speaking I'm not supposed to say anything, but I thought you should know that Draco will be just fine and should be awake in the morning. You may see him then should he permit it."

I closed my eyes and before I could stop myself I was crying again – this time in relief. _He was going to be alright. _I repeated this in my mind like a soothing mantra, and soothe me it did.

"For now though, you need to drink up all of this and get some rest."

She handed me what I knew from past experience to be Dreamless Sleep potion and I swallowed it gratefully before settling back into my pillow.

Draco would be okay. We would be okay.

It was the last thing I thought before I lost myself to an empty black unconsciousness.

Author's Note: Well, well, well. It appears Draco just might live. But I wonder what Lucius is telling Draco?


	19. Draco: Beaten

Author's Note: Many thanks to Laurel for her beta work.

Chapter 19 – Draco: Beaten

When I first regained consciousness it was only temporary and I wondered if my eyes were even functioning correctly. It was dark as pitch and the only sign I had that I was actually awake was the fact that I could see several pairs of eyes peering down at me. I didn't know who had thrown the Hex that sprawled me unconsciously to the ground, but it seemed that many were in on the plan to bring me down. I wish I had been more surprised, but my fellow Housemates always had been sheep, unable to act alone on anything.

As my eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, I realized they had taken me somewhere deep into the dungeons. The walls were laden with heavy stone, there were no windows with which to gauge the time and I was a hard, dusty floor, my body held still with a full-body bind. I recognized Pansy first; her angular cropped hair was dancing around her face as she looked from my body to the other Slytherins around her. Her eyes were wide and mad, her lips twisted into a smile. I used to feel a twinge of pity for the girl, but no longer. There were at least a dozen bodies crammed into the small, unused classroom and they all hovered around me.

"He's awake," Blaise announced, slinking up beside me to run a hand along my cheek. It started as a tender caress, but ended with a sharp slap, causing the others to jeer. "Our Prince has turned traitor," he said, addressing the crowd as much as myself. He released the bind on me and I stood to face my accusers. They had stolen my wand and I knew I couldn't fight them all off with only my fists to protect me. I had to somehow win them over with my tongue. "What shall be his punishment?"

"Death!" They shouted in unison.

"Fools!" I hissed. "The Dark Lord will have all your heads for this."

"Shut your lying mouth, Malfoy. We've seen you and Potter together. Even though the silencing charms we could practically hear you begging him to take you," Blaise replied. For him I knew this act was brought on by jealousy, but if I could just convince the others that I was still on their side, I held some hope of them overpowering him.

"I'm doing this on Voldemort's orders. It was he who wanted Potter seduced into his grasp," I spat. "He'll kill you all if you ruin this when I'm so close to succeeding!"

"How dare you call him by that name," someone hissed from the back. It was a fifth year girl I didn't know well enough to name. Her eyes blazed across the room at me and I glared at her.

"He is my master as much as yours," I growled, holding my arm aloft to show the Dark Mark that flamed deep green on my pale flesh. "Do you dare doubt the oath I have given him?"

There were some murmurs in the group and I could tell I was winning some of them over so I pressed on. "At the end of term I'm to bring Potter to Lord Voldemort so that he can finish the brat for good. I'm not to harm him, but hold his interests firmly in my grasp so that I can convince him to come willing to my home, Malfoy Manor, where he currently resides."

"The Dark Lord is living at your house?" someone asked in clear reverence and I nodded. This was common knowledge amongst the older students but the younger were rarely permitted to participate in our conversations.

"He's there now, and when I report what has happened here, he'll be looking to spill his vengeance," I warned. "You are preventing me from carrying out his wishes."

"Swill, all of it," Blaise countered. "You've been training your lying tongue too well, Malfoy. But you won't convince me. I can see the change in you; I see how you fawn over the Gryffindor git. You've switched sides. You've probably already told Potter where the Dark Lord hides since you're so willing to wield the information as a key for safe exit."

"I have not betrayed my duty as a Malfoy, Slytherin or Death Eater," I told them resolutely, but I could hear the hum in the air and I saw Pansy, who was particularly squeamish, leave the room. That was my only warning before a Curse hit me square in the chest. The Cruciatus brought me to my knees, gasping for breath as if my lungs were being twisted into shapes that would no longer be able to produce air. Every inch of my skin felt like it was being dragged though sharp metal shavings and my eyes were drying out because my body couldn't process the pain enough to blink.

Suddenly the pain stopped and I gasped for breath, realizing quickly that I was back on the floor where I'd begun. Blaise knelt beside me and took my unwilling mouth in a kiss. I tried to bite his lip, claw his eyes out, but he simply backed away and shook his finger at me.

"Just more proof that you're Potter's man now," he explained.

"Why? Because I won't let you fuck me, Zabini? I hate to tell you, but that's just high standards on my part." I could hardly get the words out before I was hit again with the Cruciatus and this time the force of it made me scream out. It no longer felt as though I was being pulled through slicing metal, no, now it felt like my already bleeding skin was being dipped in acid, though I knew without looking that there wasn't a single mark on my body. I knew they planned to torture me into madness, because even if I begged for it, this curse could not stop my heart from beating. I screamed for them unwillingly, knowing it would spurn their bloodlust, but unable to stop it from escaping my lips.

My eyelids started drooping as my mind shut down and disconnected me from the agony being inflicted upon me. I felt more than heard Blaise kneel beside me, but his words in my ear were unmistakable. "That's right, Draco, go to sleep, but know that when you do, I'm going fuck you at last. I'm going to break your virgin arsehole, Malfoy, and I'm going to enjoy every minute of it.

I smiled up at him, or as close as I could get to a semblance of that expression. The prat probably thought I was glad to know he planned to violate me, but I just wanted to tell him 'too late. Harry already beat you to it'. Oh what I would have given to see the look on his face when I said that, but unfortunately the darkness chose that moment to start encroaching my vision and my mouth didn't seem to work and longer.

I felt the Curse abate once and then start again before I felt nothing at all and I said a silent apology to Harry for leaving him so soon.

* * *

I was surprised when I woke up the next time, both because I was still alive when I hadn't expected to be, and because I felt lucid and not worthy to be admitted to St. Mungo's psychiatric department. I was sure I would be either dead or insane after my housemates were through with me, but it appeared I was neither. Although, I supposed most of the ones who were there didn't understand why they were, just the fact that I could reason that out meant that my attackers hadn't done too much damage to my cunning mind.

I was also surprised because my father's face filled my vision. "Father," I greeted, displeased to hear how raspy my voice was. A flicker of concern flitted through his eyes before they narrowed dispassionately.

"You've been careless, Draco," he lectured, as if my being in the hospital wing wasn't proof enough for me, he had to carefully spell out my wrongdoing.

"I apologize, Father." I was sorry. Sorry that I didn't get to exact some brand of justice on those blasted Slytherins, sorry they had stolen my wand so that I couldn't castrate Blaise, sorry that I had allowed myself to be captured in the first place, but I was not sorry for being with Harry and I was fairly certain that was what my father was referring to.

He bristled and nodded. "I'm glad you're okay. When Severus fire called me I imagined the worst. Your mother is beside herself with worry. I told her not to come, if you were…well, I didn't want her to have to see that." He was right, Mother shouldn't have to see my dead body; she would come to me soon enough now that I had survived my ordeal. "I assumed something like this would happen when I first heard rumors of your escapades," he continued. "Your intentions of capturing Potter for the Dark Lord's approval were admirable but I had hoped you would be careful at least."

"You're right, Father. I wasn't careful in the least," I replied dutifully. A Malfoy did not argue with his elders or the head of the house and my father was both of these things.

His eyes narrowed into steely daggers as he studied me. Eventually he shook his head and sighed; only because I was his son could I see the strain it took to keep from rubbing at his temples in frustration. "You've fallen for his charms, haven't you?"

"I don't know what you mean, Father," I replied, but I was far less practiced in the art of schooling my features as he was and I feared it was obvious to him that I was afraid.

"This is. Not. A. Game," he hissed, standing up and moving from the edge of my bed impatiently. He paced the narrow room, a habit my father rarely engaged in, and came to an abrupt halt by my side. "You risk us _all_ with your foolishness, Draco. My neck, your mother's, and your own! And for what?"

I locked my jaw and swallowed thickly, refusing to answer him. My body was still weak and I had no idea where my wand was, not that I would last a second in a duel with Lucius Malfoy. Still, it would have been somewhat reassuring to feel its weight in my palm.

"Are you able to deliver him?" my father asked at last, giving up on the idea that I might answer him. I did it all for love, it was obvious to anyone who saw us together, but father would neither hear nor accept that answer as relevant. "Use my ring and follow through with your original plan?"

I looked down at the shiny bauble on my finger and I thought of the mighty reward the Dark Lord would hand me and I could clearly see the seat he would make for me amongst his greatest followers. I could sit beside my father and my aunt, joining the Death Eater ranks as one of the elite. But then I imagined the hurt and betrayal in Harry's eyes as he realized what I had done and I shook my head. "I cannot." Tears stung my eyes because I knew those words would disappoint my father more than every failure I've produced combined into one.

His stormy gaze never left mine as he seemed to wait for me to elaborate, but no more would come from my lips on the matter. Aside from being weary to my bones, I would not provide any further ammunition for my father to use against me. Eventually he sagged, a slight movement that would go unnoticed to most, and he moved to the door. "Then you must end it. I will devise an appropriate excuse for the Dark Lord and when you graduate you will go into hiding, but you must end this nonsense with Potter at once. You two are cut from very different cloths. He cannot bear you an heir and he will never truly accept you as you are. Even if your heart has defected from Voldemort's path, you are still a Malfoy, and Malfoys and Potters do not mix. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Father," I answered obediently.

"He couldn't possibly love you if he knew what you were. This is for the best, Son," he added, gentler this time and I nodded, relieved when he finally left me alone.

From all sides our relationship was being doomed to failure and I wondered how I could possibly be confident in our future if no one else was. With father gone I succumbed to my waiting tears and I let out a hollow, broken sob. I didn't know what to do. Part of me always knew this day would come, the day when I told either Harry, or everyone else I knew to sod off, but I had hoped that Harry and I could be happy and content for just a little while longer.

I stared down at the black ink on my forearm and watched it expand and writhe before my eyes. Could I truly stand against him? Could I defy the most powerful wizard of our time? I felt a hand on my shoulder and only then realized that I hadn't been alone in my sorrow. Snape stood beside me like a dark statue, his face twisted with sadness. "He saved you." His voice was soft and filled with more compassion than I'd ever heard before.

"Father?" I asked, confused by my godfather's statement.

"Potter," he corrected. "It was him and his band of idiot Gryffindors that came to your rescue."

"Oh." It should have occurred to me earlier to ask how I had gotten away safely.

"Zabini has been sent to St. Mungo's for the injuries Potter inflicted upon him when we found you." I could have been mistaken, but I thought I saw a hint of mirth in his voice at the words. Blaise was, of course, one of his own House, but it clearly it had been obvious that the boy was the ringleader even when Harry stormed to my rescue.

"And the others?"

"Everyone in that room has been taken to Dumbledore's office. He'll decide what to do with them," Snape replied.

"Pansy was there as well. She left before they started the torture though," I told him. I wanted her punished as well. Snape nodded and I knew he would take care of it, personally if possible. "Where is Harry now?"

"Just outside the door. Probably listening in like the impertinent little brat that he is," my godfather replied. "He hasn't left since you got here."

The thought warmed me, but I worried for him. Hell, I worried for us. How could we possibly make a relationship work with such powerful opposition? "What do you think about what father said?"

"Lucius Malfoy is a wise man, but he's made many mistakes in his life, his early loyalty to Voldemort among them. You are your own man, Draco. You are in charge of your own destiny." I sighed and closed my eyes so that I didn't have to look up into those unusually caring obsidian eyes any longer. I realized with a start that I was probably closer to Severus than I was to my own father, he certainly knew me better. "Should I send Potter in?"

"No," I answered suddenly and was met with a frown when I opened my eyes. "I'm exhausted and he probably is, too."

"And you need time to think," Snape prompted and I nodded.

"That, too. I went into this so hastily and ignored everyone's warnings. I need to decide if I should continue along this path or if I will start listening to reason," I sighed. The thought of breaking up with Harry now that I knew what it was to be in love made my heart wrench painfully in my chest, but wouldn't that be an easier fate than the one I would inflict upon us both by trying to keep him? Wouldn't he be less mournful when I was killed for my indiscretions if I was to break his heart now? Perhaps father was right. Maybe Harry didn't really love me now because he didn't know everything about me. He didn't know I was a Death Eater, or that I was originally planning to hand him over to the Dark Lord himself. He didn't know how truly evil and scheming I could be. Could Harry still love me if I confessed everything?

Maybe breaking things off would save both of our hearts in the end.

At some point I must have drifted into a restless sleep because I could suddenly smell the freshly cut grass from the Quidditch pitch. It smelled like morning, and I could practically feel the dew on the ground. I opened my eyes and I could see Harry standing across the pitch with his broom in hand and he was staring at me with the widest grin I'd ever seen. "I'll beat you this time," he said, "and then I'll take my prize."

I grinned back, unable to help myself even in my dreams, and then he took off, flying overhead with the grace of a phoenix. I just stood there watching him for the longest time, unable to tear my eyes away from his seductive form. But then it all went tragically wrong.

The sky darkened and the Dark Mark shone brilliant green in the sky, causing a shiver to course through me. Harry kept flying, seeming not to notice the changes going on around him. My eyes automatically followed movement beside me and I looked over to see Voldemort, flanked by my aunt and father, and several others I knew intimately. They just stood there with their obsidian robes billowing in the stormy breeze and my pulse started racing. They'd found me, discovered my secret and decided to kill me at last.

The Dark Lord said nothing as he lifted his wand and aimed it up at Harry, my Harry, sending the boy tumbling to the ground with such terrifying force that I had to avert my eyes. I wanted to run to him, help him, hold him, but my feet were rooted in place and all I could do was scream wordlessly as he crashed to the ground with a sickening thud. I hadn't expected him to get up, but he did, though it might have been better if he hadn't. With crimson bone protruding through his beautiful flesh, Harry got up and went to stand beside my old master. His eyes were dead when I looked into them, no longer the fierce emerald blaze I remembered, but dull and sightless.

"I can kill him at any moment, Draco," Voldemort hissed at me. "I can reach into his mind and drive him mad, or I can make him turn on you, all for my entertainment."

As if to punctuate his words, he gave a little wave of his hand and Harry shot Hex after Hex at me. I felt my wand light in my hand, but I was unable to fire back, unwilling to hurt him even though my mind knew it was no longer my Harry in that body. Just the fragment of hope that it might one day be him again kept me from raising my own wand.

One of the Hexes struck true at last and my body vibrated in stinging pain. I tried to tell my brain that it was just residual from the Crucio curses I'd been subjected to earlier, but it refused to listen and argued that this was real. Harry was truly attacking me, and even if it wasn't true right now, it would be one day. A thin sheen of sweat coated my body as I stared back into those empty eyes until I just couldn't take it anymore and I screamed, letting them hear the sound my heart made as it shattered.

"Stop it!" I shouted, but Harry wouldn't look at me and the Death Eaters just laughed at my pain. "Leave us alone," I sobbed, falling to my knees. All I wanted was to be able to forget the mess all around us and be alone and happy with Harry. "Harry, I love you, please stop!" I cried, but my lover leveled his wand at me one last time, a haunted look on his face as he mouthed the words of the killing curse. I could clearly see the jet of green light coming toward me, its light blinding me until I shut my eyes against it. I braced for the impact, but it never came. Instead I felt a gentle burning sensation through my body and I opened my eyes to find Madam Pomfrey standing over me with her wand making jittery motions above my body.

"You were having a nightmare, Mr. Malfoy," she explained. "When I came to check on you, your body was contorted in pain. This should help to ease some of that in just a few moments."

I nodded, closing my eyes again until I heard her bustle away and return to my side again. "Drink this," she ordered and I looked up to see the Dreamless Sleep Draught. I took it from her hand and gulped it down, eager to avoid that nightmare again. It wasn't long before my eyelids grew too heavy to keep lifted and I fell back into a deep sleep, this time, without pain and without Voldemort looming on the edge of my consciousness.

* * *

The fourth time I woke, I was grateful to find myself alone in my room. It was morning and sunlight was streaming through the window to lie harshly against my squinted gaze. I couldn't begrudge the sun its obscene shine since it also served to wash away some of the terror and worries of the previous night. I took a deep breath, as if I could absorb that sunlight into my soul and then let it out again, hoping I was expelling the last bits of pain along with it.

Harry was right outside my door, I could practically sense the beat of his heart. I had to steel myself, resolve to do what was best for Harry. I was determined not to be selfish any longer and I would end things. I hoped it was still early enough for our hearts to recover and maybe Harry would even find a way to repair things with Corner, though thoughts of that turned my blood to ice.

It had to be a clean break, I knew, one that would leave him with no doubts that a relationship between us was a terrible idea. I thought over how I could manage that. Sleep with Ron Weasley perhaps? But that was too ghastly to think about for long, Granger was a more appealing option, but that wasn't saying much. Maybe I should just whip out my Dark Mark and let him run away screaming? My gut lurched as I realized this was a realistic option; I'd been amusing – and disgusting – myself with the first few suggestions, knowing it would never happen. But, I hadn't applied any more Vanishing cream to my Mark since yesterday, and it was still dark and ominous on my skin.

I hadn't yet had time to think of the right thing to say or do when I heard the door click open. "Yes, Mr. Potter, I'll check to see if he's awake yet," Madam Pomfrey was telling someone – presumably Harry – behind her before she turned and spotted me sitting up in bed. "Oh. Mr. Malfoy, you look a good deal better this morning."

"I feel better," I told her, though that wasn't true at all. I felt like a sick prat for coming up with scenarios to break Harry's heart, but she was concerned with different wounds, so I gave her the answer she needed.

"Mr. Potter's outside waiting to see you. Should I let him in?" she asked, heading back toward the door as if she already knew the answer.

I wanted to say no, perhaps avoidance was the way to do it, but I shook that thought away. Not only was it cowardly, but it wasn't the clean break I had imagined at all. I knew it had to be swift to work the way I needed it to. I needed to be convincing when I explained that I didn't really love him and I never would. It was best to get this over with while I was still cranky and in pain.

"Yes, send him in."

Her beaming smile wavered somewhat at my tone but she did as I bid her and Harry rushed through the door and to my side. "Oh, Draco, thank the gods you're alright," he gasped, taking my hand into his.

I didn't have anything to say for a moment as I looked up into his lovely green gaze, his eyes ringed with red. I lost my words; unable to spit out the venom I had planned for him to hear, I swallowed it instead. His face displayed such sincere relief as he stared down at me and I couldn't bring myself to wipe that look from his stunning features. Merlin, I loved him so much and there was no amount of acting that would convince me otherwise. I could be selfish for just a little while longer. What could it hurt after all? I wasted no breath answering him, but instead pulled his face to mine in a deep kiss. I couldn't stop this relationship from progressing; I was addicted to him and unwilling to give up my drug of choice no matter how many people told me it was unhealthy and wrong.

He climbed awkwardly into the bed with me and wrapped himself around my aching body. I held my face as still as possible so as not to wince and make him think he'd hurt me. He had, but it was a pain I could deal with so long as his arms were around me and his lips on mine. Seconds blended into minutes and the minutes stretched out even longer before we finally parted. His lips were so beautifully swollen and I leaned back slightly to take in the rest of him, only to be swatted on the arm.

"Ow," I whined. "What was that for?"

"You promised that you would be careful and keep yourself out of harm's way. You said you still had power over them," he huffed indignantly.

"Clearly I was mistaken." I thought that fact was fairly obvious, but apparently Harry still needed to vent.

His body relaxed and he snuggled back into my side, all signs of ranting vanished for the time being. "I wanted to come in sooner but your father told Pomfrey that I wasn't allowed."

I sighed, his comment reminded me of the demand my father had made on me before he left. "He told me to break up with you," I informed him. We already had too many secrets between us, I didn't want to make even more.

"And you told him no, didn't you?" Harry asked, worry creasing his features.

"That would have been highly unwise," I replied sullenly. "I agreed to do as he said. I hadn't meant it at the time, I only conceded to get him to leave, but then I thought on it more after he left and started to wonder if he might be right. We're safer apart than we are together, Harry."

Harry remained silent, watching me with as little emotion playing across his face as I've ever seen on him. It was as if he was waiting for the punch line of this humorless joke.

"Voldemort wants you dead, and Dumbledore wants me to leave you alone. The Slytherins tried to kill me because I'm in love with the enemy - and you can't fool yourself into thinking we're not enemies even though we're lovers as well. We have different views, different morals, different everything. I'm still a pureblood. I'm still a Malfoy. I'm still a Slytherin. None of that has changed just because I fell in love with you. We were born enemies."

"How can you say that?" he demanded, but I stopped him before he could continue.

"Like it or not we are on opposite sides of this war, Harry. Could you fight me if it came to that?" I asked him seriously.

"Could you?!" he asked, his voice rising in pitch. It wasn't lost on me that he'd failed to answer my own question.

"No," I replied honestly. I couldn't even lift my wand to stun an Imeriused Harry in my dreams. There was no way possible I could hurt the living, breathing boy here in front of me. "I couldn't. I would let you strike me down before I'd even raise my wand."

"I can't believe you'd think that I would do that," he growled, clearly incensed. "I can't believe after all of this…"

"That what? That I'm still a Malfoy even though I'm your Malfoy, that I'm still a Slytherin even though I'm your Slytherin? Did you think that I would throw my beliefs in the rubbish and adopt yours?" I pressed, but he just sat there gaping at me. "I love you, Harry. I've never loved anyone before you, but you have to see this clearly. If we stay together, we both need to be fully aware of what lies ahead of us. Maybe somehow you'll convince me before its too late that Muggles are just as good as wizards, but I doubt it. Maybe I'll make you see that your pureblood father was better than your Muggle mother, but I doubt that as well."

I started to continue, but Harry put his fingers over my lips and closed his eyes. "Enough," he sighed, sounding thoughtful and resigned. "I hear what you're saying, I just need a minute to think."

I nodded, knowing he could feel the movement through his fingertips against my face even though his eyes were squeezed tight. I'm sure Harry had, at some point, thought of every argument that I'd just mentioned as to why we should not be together, but I needed to be sure of it. I did love him, and nothing would stop that, not even if we were forced apart, but I couldn't live with myself if our decision to stay together got Harry hurt or killed. The Slytherins had already come after me, how long would it be before someone attacked Harry? What if I wasn't able to get to him as quickly as he'd gotten to me? What if someday soon I had to attend Harry's funeral? I couldn't even bear the thought.

In a flash, he pulled his fingers away from my lips and his eyes flew wide open. He just stared at me for a long moment before leaning in and kissing a trail along my damp cheeks. It wasn't until then that I realized I had been crying. The sheer idea of standing in front of Harry's casket drove me mad with grief.

"Shhh," he soothed, letting his mouth, now wet and salty with my own tears, lightly caress my lips. "We can get through anything if we're together."

My chest heaved at the sentiment, both naïve and touching all at once. Oh, how I loved my beautiful, mushy Gryffindor. I wound my arms around his waist and pulled him into me, working my fingers beneath his jumper so that I could touch his warm flesh.

His lips left mine to trail along my jaw and neck in a hot line. I gasped, kneading my fingers into his back as I drove our erections together with blinding force, forgetting the ache in my bones. I moaned against the shell of his ear as we rutted against one another like a couple of inexperienced teenage boys, which I supposed was sort of what we were. I often felt so much older than sixteen because I had experienced so much already: love, hate, fear, bliss, life, and soon death. Hissing against the delicious friction, I bit down on his shoulder to muffle my cry of release and within moments his mouth was on mine again and he was groaning from his own orgasm. It was over too fast for my liking and I wanted more of him, to feel his naked flesh against my own, to have the time to explore him and find the spots that made him cry out. Unfortunately, the hospital wing was not the place for that.

"I think Ron and Hermione are still outside," Harry whispered after showering my face with kisses. He looked to the door, which was still gaping open from where Pomfrey left, and his cheeks were tinged with that beautiful blush I adored. "I really hope they didn't hear any of that."

I grinned mischievously and winked at him in reply. "I hope Weasley heard every moan," I replied and he swatted my arm playfully. Unfortunately the endorphins from our short romp had worn off and I couldn't stop the wince as his light slap echoed through me like a Stinging Hex.

"Oh, Draco," he gasped, looking deeply apologetic. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm sure it will wear off soon enough," I placated. "Really, I'm quite lucky if some residual pain is all I got from being so thoroughly Crucioed."

Harry closed his eyes and buried his face in my shoulder. "I had a feeling that's what they did, but Draco, it's so horrid. How could your own housemates attack you that way?"

"I blacked out after the third time," I admitted, hoping it might ease his concerns somehow. "They probably would have driven me mad with it, or used Avada on me eventually. I warned you about them, Harry. I could feel the stir of righteous Slytherin scheming polluting the air all around us."

"How did they get you?" he asked. "You said you were being careful."

"I was distracted," I told him honestly. "I had just left Snape's office after dropping you off near the Headmaster's and I had a million thoughts running through my mind."

"Was Snape telling you to break things off with me as well?" Harry huffed, his eyes narrowing automatically.

"No," I defended. I had a soft spot for my godfather that I hadn't realized was there until recently. "He suggested I tell my housemates that I was with you because the Dark Lord commanded it. He's the only one who hasn't told me to break up with you, though it hasn't stopped him from calling me a simpering Hufflepuff," I grumbled.

"Did he?"

"Call me names?" I asked incredulously. "Does that really seem all that farfetched?"

"Of course, not," Harry scoffed. "I didn't mean Snape I, meant Vol-"

"Is everything alright in here?" Ron asked from the doorway, carefully averting his gaze to the floor. "It's been rather quiet. I wanted to make sure you haven't strangled one another."

"Everything's fine," Harry answered and I nodded to confirm his assessment.

"Right," he stammered, clearly uncertain as to what to do next. "Mione and I were thinking about grabbing some breakfast, Harry. Can you leave yet, Malfoy?"

"I doubt it. Knowing Pomfrey she'll want me to imbibe at least three more disgusting potions and have me rest for a bit longer. But you go on, Harry. You've been here all night; you need to have something to eat."

"I don't want-" he began but I feathered my hand through his unruly hair and kissed him lightly on the lips.

"I insist. I'll be rotten company for the next couple of hours anyhow. If she lets me out of here before you get a chance to come back, I'll track you down. Deal?" I prompted. I was eager to steer clear of where our last conversation had been going. Now that I had made the decision to defy my father and Voldemort, I didn't want Harry discovering the truth about why I started courting him, but I didn't want to lie either. That was all in the past now. Regardless of what got me to this point, I loved my Gryffindor and I could never turn him over to the Dark Lord.

He reluctantly agreed, but he kept turning back to glance at me as he followed Weasley out the door. When he was gone my heart ached instantly, but I pushed the feeling aside and sunk down into the covers. My whole body felt like someone had wrung it out to dry and twisted really hard. It wasn't long before Madam Pomfrey was having me chug potions as I'd suspected and my empty stomach started heaving restlessly.

She moved me out into the main area, setting me up on a bed away from the windows that had the most glare, for which I was thankful. I was lying there with my eyes closed, clutching my uncomfortably churning stomach when I heard the door creak open. I peeked to see if it was my Harry coming back from breakfast, although it seemed too early for him to have returned already I thought maybe he had skipped it to be with me, but I was dead wrong.

Prancing through the door as if she owned the entire castle was Pansy Parkinson. She flitted over to my bed and propped herself up on the edge of it, leaning in to place a kiss on my lips. I turned my head so she got my cheek instead and she pouted down at me like a petulant child. "I thought you'd have been expelled by now, Parkinson," I snapped and her pout turned into a haughty grin.

"You should know better than that, Lover," she cooed. "The most I could get was a slap on the wrist. I wasn't even there. Only your faggot Gryffindor could even speculate that I knew anything about it." Her voice was like a singsong chime, as if she were lording the news over me.

"Has Snape been to visit you yet?" I asked and her eyes darkened instantly.

"No, why should he?" she asked.

"He'll have his own punishments for the ones who evaded Dumbledore's. Personally, I would have taken the Headmaster's if I were you," I quipped, smirking casually at her. "Who knows what delicious contraptions Severus has lurking in the locked dungeon rooms."

She rolled her eyes, but I could tell by the set of her shoulders that she was scared. I was incensed that she hadn't been expelled along with the others, but no matter, Snape would grab her up when it pleased him and I certainly wouldn't stand in his way. "Enough about boring things," she chirped. "I'm here to pass along a message."

"And that would be?" I asked dully, but my own heart thrummed desperately in my chest.

"You're going to die, Draco," she told me, her pitch still high and unwieldy. "Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow night, but soon. The Slytherins left at Hogwarts are all looking forward to getting a piece of you, and I must say, it will be well worth the wait. I should know after all," she added with a wink.

"Because it worked so well the last time you tried," I remarked, and her gaze leveled on me as she gestured toward the hospital bed my broken body was currently lying in.

"Practice makes perfect, and we know where you sleep." Her grin widened as she surveyed my dull reaction, but something else caught my attention, something much more interesting.

"Harry," I chimed. "Parkinson here thinks she can walk about making threats on my life. What do you think about that, Love?"

Author's Note: So, this is a rather mild cliffhanger for the readers, but really I only write to stump my dear Laurel. *grin*


	20. Harry: A Visitor

Author's Note: Laurel's turn!!!

Chapter 20 Harry – A Visitor

When I woke Hermione was no longer sleeping next to me and I could see from where I lay that she was instead curled up on Ron's lap. I hadn't yet been allowed to properly admire my former best friends together as a couple and it was rather bittersweet watching them slumber in a position that was sure to be uncomfortable for them when they woke. I was glad when they had finally gotten together, but I had spent weeks trying to distance myself from them so I had yet to truly enjoy watching their romance. I only allowed myself this pleasure for a moment before my thoughts were all for Draco – or rather the Examination Room door that hid him from me.

I sat up and glared down the door like it was my enemy. It seemed so insignificant really, just a bit of wood, it wasn't smart or strong, not much of a barrier at all – if I really wanted to I could just open it. But still it stood firmly between me and my lover.

I glanced around the room. Silence. There was no sign of Pomfrey anywhere and I knew if I was ever to get my chance to sneak in with Draco it would be now. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and slipped down on to the floor. I froze. I could hear Ron snoring lightly, but nothing more. Feeling confident, I began to creep towards the door; Pomfrey had super human hearing and the last thing I needed was for her to catch me, but, in a strange way, I also felt like I was sneaking up on the door. I wanted to make sure it wasn't expecting to be opened and would therefore be unprepared and unlocked; a strange thought to be having, but a much easier one than thinking on what I would find once I was through it. Draco. _My_ Draco looking… pale? Sick? Oh God, dead? I didn't know what to expect.

I was starting to lose my nerve but I pressed on. I had reached the door and managed to do so without being caught. My hand rested on the door handle. _Open it. He's fine, Pomfrey said so. Open the door._

"Mr. Potter! What are you doing?" I heard the old nurse's shrill cry across the wing. _Damn._ I stepped reluctantly away from the door. I could have just walked in, but I had been planning to do it quietly and I doubt I would have managed that with Pomfrey coming up behind me. I did want to see Draco, but I certainly didn't want to wake him if he needed to rest.

"I just wanted to check on Draco," I tried to explain.

"Yes, well, _I _am the medi-witch here," she scolded me. "I will do the checking. You should be in bed; I'll be over in a minute to check on your hand."

"My hand?" I asked, suddenly confused.

"Yes, your right hand, Mr. Potter," she huffed. "You did quite some damage to it assaulting Mr. Zabini. I repaired your two broken knuckle bones while you were asleep, but I need you to do some hand exercises for me, just to make sure they're not too stiff and everything is working as it should." I stared back at her dumbly. I broke my hand? How did I not notice that? I flexed my right hand, opening and closing it a few times; it felt a little stiff. "_Bed_, Mr. Potter. I will check on Mr. Malfoy."

I nodded reluctantly and watched with jealousy as she slipped inside the quiet room. Madam Pomfrey was short but quick and my attempts to catch a glimpse of Draco over her shoulder were unsuccessful. I turned and stalked back to the bed where Hermione and Ron, now awake from Pomfrey's screeching, stared back at me from their armchair. It was strange to have them here with me and I felt suddenly self-conscious.

"How are you feeling?" Hermione asked softly.

"I dunno, a bit numb actually," I replied honestly and Hermione nodded, obviously unsure about what to say next.

"Do you want some water?" she asked eventually.

"Yes please, that'd be great." I suddenly felt parched and water sounded wonderfully refreshing. Hermione climbed off Ron's lap and took several steps forward before halting in the middle of the room.

"Oh," she sighed, sounding disappointed. "I'm not sure where to get it from, but there must be some here, Madam Pomfrey always has water for you."

"That's okay, I don't really need-"

"No. No, I'll find you some!" she insisted. "Just – just stay there." She rushed out of the Hospital Wing and off to God knows where to find me some water. It was kind of sweet, but it also made me a little uncomfortable because I wasn't really sure of her motivations. Hermione had always fussed over me, but I did wonder if this attention had sprung from guilt at our separation, sympathy over Draco, or the love she had always had for me. Maybe it was a little bit of everything….

"Where do you reckon she's gone?" I asked Ron when the silence and his staring finally got too much for me to bear.

He shrugged and said with a smirk. "To find you some water?"

"Why didn't she just conjure some?" I asked quietly, smiling back at my old friend.

He laughed. "Dunno," he shrugged. "Maybe she's so flustered she forgot she's a witch."

I laughed despite myself and climbed back up on to the bed. We were silent again for a long while and I stared up at the dirty white ceiling willing the minutes and seconds away just waiting for Pomfrey to emerge and tell me I could see Draco. When I heard the Exam Room door click open I jumped off the bed and rushed over to her.

"He's sound asleep," she informed me, although there was a gentle smile on her lips. "He's doing very well though considering the state he arrived in." I tried not to look too disappointed that I couldn't see him and instead focus on the news that he was alright; he so easily could have gone the other way. "Come on, I need to look at that hand."

My shoulders slumped and I let her lead me back to the bed I had been occupying. I was starting to hate that bed; I felt like it was as much of a perpetrator as the door in keeping me away from Draco.

--

Hermione had returned with an entire jug full of water, I had no idea where she'd gotten it and didn't really care to ask. I was grateful she had though. I'd taken a long drink and then settled back down on to my hated bed, tapping the tips of my fingers together repeatedly while I listened to Ron give me a run down on the state of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

Basically, the team was sinking. We were up shit creek and it sounded like they'd thrown away both their oars when they'd let me go and had been furiously paddling with their hands ever since. Ginny had some skill and had managed to keep them afloat, but without her, if I had not agreed to come back, they would have been screwed. I _had_ agreed to play, but I wondered now if I would go through with it – I supposed it depended on Draco and his recovery. If he needed me, I couldn't be anywhere else but by his side.

Pomfrey appeared again, making her way towards Draco's room – it had been at least an hour since she'd checked on him and at least ten minutes since I'd last asked her when she thought he would be awake for me to see him. I jumped off the bed and rushed over.

"Yes, Mr. Potter, I'll check to see if he's awake yet," she assured me. I could tell she was trying to be patient with me, but I was surely testing the length of her tolerance. She slipped into the room and my breath quickened when I heard her speak from behind the closed door; Draco was awake. "Oh. Mr. Malfoy, you look a good deal better this morning," she said.

Draco's response was muffled and I frowned. I didn't like that I couldn't hear him, I wanted to hear his voice, dispel the horrible thoughts from my mind. Madam Pomfrey had moved away from the door too, and now I couldn't hear either of them. I was tempted to press my ear up against the wood like a child listening for sounds of Santa on Christmas Eve, but instead I just stood there twitching in my impatience.

Thankfully I didn't have to wait very long before the door was opened to me and I was allowed inside. I barely noticed Pomfrey step outside, leaving the door open so we were at least partially supervised, I was too busy trying to manage the rush of emotions I felt at seeing Draco looking like _Draco_. He was sitting up and his face was full of colour and life.

"Oh, Draco, thank the gods you're alright," I gasped, grabbing his hand in mine just to feel his warm skin.

His cloudy grey eyes stared up at me, looking for something as he had done the first time we kissed. There was something worrying in the way he looked at me; I thought for a moment he looked uncertain about something – about me, maybe? But I could see that none of the emotion was missing from his gaze. He had missed me just as much as I had missed him, and he erased all my worries in one hungry movement as he forcefully pulled my mouth to his.

My urges took over and, selfishly, without concern for his injuries, I crawled up to him to feed my own needs with Draco's touch, his taste, his scent. I pressed myself into him and kissed him ardently, growling pleasurably at the small noises he made. I wondered if I was feeding his needs as he was feeding mine, that he was hungry for me as I hungered for him.

Eventually I pulled away from him so I would be able to see him properly. He was more beautiful than I remembered. I couldn't believe how close I'd come to facing the rest of my life without him. Stupid Slytherin. I smacked him lightly on his arm.

"Ow," he complained, pouting cutely. "What was that for?"

"You promised that you would be careful and keep yourself out of harm's way. You said you still had power over them," I frowned, trying to match his childish pout and failing spectacularly – that boy had the most kissable mouth I'd ever seen.

"Clearly I was mistaken," he replied. His tone was a pathetic attempt at being casual and I wanted to tell him that when it came to matters like this there was no room for mistakes! But I couldn't. I took in the intensity of his eyes, the perfect angle of his nose, and the way his mouth was slightly parted making me want to kiss him over and over again. I was just so grateful to have him here with me. I reasoned to myself that he'd gone through enough anyway, who was I to punish him any more than he had been already.

I relaxed into his embrace and sighed into his hospital gown. "I wanted to come in sooner, but your father told Pomfrey that I wasn't allowed." Draco paused, and I enjoyed the rise and fall of his chest under me.

"He told me to break up with you," he said softly, and my breath caught. I wondered why he would tell me that. It wasn't like I had expected Lucius Malfoy to be happy about our relationship, but he was so separate from Hogwarts I hadn't expected Draco's family to become a problem for us quite so soon. He hadn't spoken about his family much, but the little he'd said gave me a strong impression that Lucius often pulled on Draco's puppet strings and if Lord Malfoy was determined to see us separate then … I couldn't bear to think about it.

"And you told him no, didn't you?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"That would have been highly unwise," he told me sadly. His choice of words didn't reflect the carefree lover I'd known these past few days, but rather the well bred, pureblood, high society heir to the Malfoy fortune. "I agreed to do as he said. I hadn't meant it at the time, I only conceded to get him to leave, but then I thought on it more after he left and started to wonder if he might be right. We're safer apart than we are together, Harry."

I couldn't speak. I could barely breathe. Did he even know what he was saying to me? Did he know what this would mean? We would be apart; we couldn't talk to each other, or touch. Surely, he hadn't really considered it.

"Voldemort wants you dead, and Dumbledore wants me to leave you alone. The Slytherins tried to kill me because I'm in love with the enemy - and you can't fool yourself into thinking we're not enemies even though we're lovers as well," he said, and it hurt so much to hear. I never, ever wanted to think of him as my enemy again. We were lovers and companions; he was my soul mate – at least that's how it felt. There was so much between us, but it was sounding like he'd already given up. "We have different views, different morals, different everything," he continued. "I'm still a pureblood. I'm still a Malfoy. I'm still a Slytherin. None of that has changed just because I fell in love with you. We were born enemies."

"How can you say that?" I snapped. I wanted to tell him that we were to each other what we wanted to be and we would always be enemies as long as that was how he thought of me, but it wasn't how I thought of him. I wanted to tell him that, but he wouldn't let me.

"Like it or not we are on opposite sides of this war, Harry. Could you fight me if it came to that?" he asked me.

_Fight him!? _What did he mean by that!? I knew he was talking about the war, but I guess I thought I would be more likely to cross wands with his father rather than him. "Could you?!" I asked incredulously. I couldn't believe the conversation we were having. Of all the things I wanted to say to him and wanted to hear from him after I came so close to losing him forever, it certainly wasn't anything like this conversation.

"No," he sighed tiredly. "I couldn't. I would let you strike me down before I'd even raise my wand."

"I can't believe you'd think that I would do that," I accused, feeling deeply hurt by his suggestion. "I can't believe after all of this…"

"That what? That I'm still a Malfoy even though I'm your Malfoy, that I'm still a Slytherin even though I'm your Slytherin? Did you think that I would throw my beliefs in the rubbish and adopt yours?" he challenged me and I was shocked to the core. At this point I wasn't sure of anything; I couldn't even think beyond my disbelief at what I was hearing to properly recall what I'd thought would happen now that we were together. I supposed, in a way, I had expected him to change – to be on my side during the war at the very least – but, from what he was saying, apparently I was the only one thinking it. "I love you, Harry," he continued. "I've never loved anyone before you, but you have to see this clearly. If we stay together, we both need to be fully aware of what lies ahead of us. Maybe somehow you'll convince me before its too late that Muggles are just as good as wizards, but I doubt it. Maybe I'll make you see that your pureblood father was better than your Muggle mother, but I doubt that as well."

As he spoke, his words afforded me some clarity, but it was a painful clarity I found difficult to reason out in my mind. I loved him more than life and I couldn't see that changing at any point, and while I can understand that couples are still individual people with individual beliefs and values, it makes sense that their values aren't drastically different – or in mine and Draco's case, completely opposite. I wondered whether he was talking simply of his beliefs, or if he was explaining why he would still fight with Voldemort even though he loved me.

"Enough," I sighed. I couldn't hear him go on about it; I understood what he meant and to hear him reiterate it would only hurt me further. "I hear what you're saying, I just need a minute to think."

I hoped that I might have time to convince him that Voldemort's devastating campaign was about so much more than Muggles and Muggleborns verses Purebloods. Not too far beneath the pathetic front Voldemort had used to justify – if that was even possible – his actions was his true motivation; his unquenchable desire to be number one, to be on top at any cost. I knew though, that even if he did manage to conquer Wizarding Britain and sit himself into the Minister's chair, he would still want more. His eyes would stray to France and he would begin to think himself able to rule both countries, and then another, and another.

I didn't want to _change _Draco or his values or opinions, but he needed to know what Voldemort was really fighting for. It was a thin line I walked between loving him as he was and wanting him to change some of his ways.

I certainly had a lot of thinking to do.

In the face of all this uncertainty my affection for him was still paramount in my mind. I caressed his face and held it in my hands, sighing and relaxing into him, I closed my eyes; I needed space to think and I would surely have it later, for now I just needed to be with him. I took a deep breath, concentrating on how Draco felt against me and the rise and fall of my chest against his.

It tickled my fingertips and at first I ignored it – Draco was more important – but when the feeling persisted and I realized my fingers were damp, I had to pay attention. I was confused; if it had been anyone else I would have thought they were crying, but Draco? It didn't seem likely.

Then he made this noise – barely a noise at all, but I heard it – a cracked mixture of a sniffle and a sigh, and I knew. I jumped back from him, at first concerned I'd been hurting him, but as I took in the unbelievable sight of Draco Malfoy in tears I saw that all his pain was held in his eyes. In an instant his hurt became mine, his fear was mine, and I felt it all build up in me. It was all I could do not to cry with him simply because he was.

I kissed him gently over and over, across his wet cheeks, down his jaw and finally to his lips. "Shhh," I soothed him. "We can get through anything if we're together."

My words seemed to affect him greatly as he released a choked cry from deep within his chest. He wrapped his arms around my middle and pulled me to him, letting his hands creep underneath my jumper to explore my bare back. His touch sent a thrill through my body and I ached for more, my hormones took over my common sense as I began to kiss him, encouraging him to touch me as he liked.

When my erection pressed desperately into his, I forgot all about his injuries and he arched up into me, seeking the contact as much as I was. I felt his fingernails digging into my flesh as he tried to pull me closer still. Panting as I thrust into him, I got a glimpse of his face and it was heavenly, he'd completely let go of all his careful controls, and had given himself to me totally. I felt the pressure build up inside of me, heightened by the depth of emotion I felt for him, especially now that I had him in my arms after coming so close to the possibility of never feeling him near me again. His hands clenched on my back and his nails dragged along my skin as he came, he bit down into my shoulder so he wouldn't cry out, but I heard his moan reverberate from his throat anyway and it pushed me over the edge. Draco caught my own groans of pleasure in his mouth as I kissed him and within seconds I was slack with exhaustion and satisfaction; I wanted to fall asleep with him here, but I knew I couldn't.

"I think Ron and Hermione are still outside," I whispered, suddenly acutely aware of what we'd just done. I looked to the door and when I saw it open, inviting anyone outside to come in and see us dry humping each other my face heated up immediately. "I really hope they didn't hear any of that."

He grinned at me cheekily. "I hope Weasley heard every moan," he teased, and I smacked him lightly on the arm in reprimand. His expression tightened with pain and it cut through my heart.

"Oh, Draco," I exclaimed. "I'm so sorry." I wanted to take all his pain away from him and wear it myself if I had to. I wanted his pain to be my burden not his; it should have been me who was tortured, me who nearly lost his life, not Draco. This was all my fault.

"I'm sure it will wear off soon enough. Really, I'm quite lucky if some residual pain is all I got from being so thoroughly Crucioed," he replied, trying to reassure me.

It didn't work. I buried myself into him and sighed. "I had a feeling that's what they did, but Draco, it's so horrid. How could your own housemates attack you that way?"

"I blacked out after the third time," he said, looking at me like I should feel better for knowing that. I just felt sick. "They probably would have driven me mad with it, or used Avada on me eventually. I warned you about them, Harry. I could feel the stir of righteous Slytherin scheming polluting the air all around us."

"How did they get you?" I asked. "You said you were being careful."

"I was distracted," he replied, and I had to bite my tongue to not tell him off for being so careless. "I had just left Snape's office after dropping you off near the Headmaster's and I had a million thoughts running through my mind."

"Was Snape telling you to break things off with me as well?" I said, accusing Snape with my tone. I could understand Draco's distraction if Snape was meddling in our relationship; the man had made it abundantly clear yesterday that he thought I had no business being with his godson.

"No," he said quickly, sounding mildly offended that I'd even mentioned it. "He suggested I tell my housemates that I was with you because the Dark Lord commanded it. He's the only one who hasn't told me to break up with you, though it hasn't stopped him from calling me a simpering Hufflepuff."

"Did he?" I asked, surprised by the idea, but at the same time not surprised at all. It all fit really; Malfoy's sudden interest in me, his almost instantaneous switch between hating me and trying to seduce me, and his persistence. What if Voldemort was behind all of this? It would be perfect really. I love Draco more than life, I would follow him into the depths of Hell, which is what Voldemort would want. Draco could lead me right into Voldemort's lair and I would go with him.

"Call me names?" he scoffed. "Does that really seem all that farfetched?"

"Of course, not," I huffed. "I didn't mean Snape I, meant Vol-"

"Is everything alright in here?" I would have thought Ron had poked his head in to see what we were doing except that he was adamantly _not _looking at us. "It's been rather quiet. I wanted to make sure you haven't strangled one another."

"Everything's fine," I told him.

"Right," he stammered, clearly uncertain as to what to do next. "Mione and I were thinking about grabbing some breakfast, Harry. Can you leave yet, Malfoy?"

"I doubt it. Knowing Pomfrey she'll want me to imbibe at least three more disgusting potions and have me rest for a bit longer. But you go on, Harry. You've been here all night; you need to have something to eat."

"I don't want-" I began to protest, but he stopped me with a kiss, threading his fingers through my hair as he pulled me in.

"I insist. I'll be rotten company for the next couple of hours anyhow," he whispered against my lips. "If she lets me out of here before you get a chance to come back, I'll track you down. Deal?"

I nodded slowly, still not completely happy with the idea. I wanted to stay with him, but I knew Pomfrey wouldn't let me even if Draco would; besides, I was a little hungry….

I climbed regretfully off his bed, this time careful not to cause him further injury, and made my way to the door. I couldn't help but look back at him, pleading to him with my eyes to let me stay. I would forgo food for the rest of my life just to stay with him; it didn't seem as necessary as it once had to sustain me, Draco seemed to be the only thing I needed now.

--

Breakfast was an awkward affair. It was the first time I had eaten with Hermione and Ron for months, although it felt like years. As I covertly stole glances of the two across the table, I felt a mix of emotions. I was still bitter that we'd even reached this point in our friendship – we never should have parted in the first place. I was worried we wouldn't ever be close friends again because there was too much between us now, the trust was gone and I didn't know if I would be able to keep them in my heart as I once had in case they hurt me again. But most of all, I was just glad to be here with them now. They had really pulled through for me and Draco last night, if it wasn't for them … well, I didn't want to think about it. Draco was alive and healthy and that's what I would have to focus on, rather than letting myself get upset about what might have happened.

"I might go back up and see Draco," I announced. I'd been sitting there fidgeting under the gaze of the rest of the school as they observed our reunion and all I could think about was Draco up there alone in the infirmary.

"I'm sure Draco is fine, Harry," Hermione sighed as though I were some kind of lost cause. "Besides, you have class in fifteen minutes."

"I'm just going to check on him quickly," I said as I stood from my seat. I'd eaten what I could stomach – half a bowl of porridge – and it would do me no good to force myself to eat any more. "I won't be long."

I could see Ron biting his tongue and squeezing Hermione's hand in warning, and then he nodded at me. I didn't like this stage of our reconciliation; they were letting me do as I pleased and, as convenient as that was for me, I didn't like that they didn't feel like they could disagree with me. I wasn't about to argue with them now though; my feet were itching to sprint up to the Hospital Wing, just to be with Draco that much sooner.

I headed out of the Great Hall where the rest of the school were chatting and fighting over the last piece of bacon, and into the Entrance Hall where I immediately froze almost mid-step. I shouldn't have been surprised really, he had nearly died, but standing in the Hall looking very proper was Lady Narcissa Malfoy. She had robes of a deep maroon and blood red lipstick with a navy blue scarf wrapped over her hair and around her neck. I could see blonde wisps of hair that had escaped her scarf and even though I'd only seen her once in my life, I knew exactly who she was; Draco's mother.

She seemed to have spotted me too and, surprisingly, she made her way over to where I stood staring at her. "Mr. Potter," she greeted me evenly. "I'm here to see my son and I'm under the assumption you will know where he is?"

"Oh, um, yes, Ma'am," I stammered. "He's in the Hospital Wing, I was just on my way up to see him actually."

"Then you can escort me," she said simply, as though it was a normal request and not something I should feel the least bit awkward about. She held out her elbow for me take so I could lead her properly up the stairs to the infirmary and after an unsure moment, I took it. "How long have you been dating my son?" she asked as we walked and my heart quickened immediately. I was beginning to desperately wish that I'd stayed with Hermione and Ron.

"Um, not long," I replied, my voice shaking with nerves. This was Draco's _mother _after all and despite everything I wanted her to like me. "A little over a week now."

"Only a week?" she said, sounding surprised. "From what I've heard it sounded like you'd been together much longer than that."

"We've been friends for a few months now, and we studied together most days," I explained, thinking she must have heard reports of how much time we spent together – although reports from whom I didn't know.

"I was referring to my son's affection for you, Mr. Potter," she replied. "I have heard he is quite taken with you, I assumed you would have been together much longer for him to be so infatuated. Although, you are both very young I suppose, everything is _love_ when you're sixteen."

"Young or not, Lady Malfoy, what Draco and I feel for each other is real," I retorted. I was feeling rather defensive of our youth, I knew how I felt and I knew I would feel the same about him if I were sixteen or sixty.

"Yes, I do not doubt that," she assured me, although I couldn't help but feel a little patronized by her tone. "But you are taking great risks by acting on your feelings this way, and not just with your own lives. I hope you realize that this union could determine all our fates, what I cannot yet determine is which way it will go."

"It will go my way, Lady Malfoy," I spoke so determinedly I almost hissed at her. "You can be sure of that."

I needed Draco's mother to have the confidence in me that I often lacked in myself. I needed to defeat Voldemort, I knew I would simply because there was no other option, but I did wonder about my fate and Draco's. Not everyone would survive this war and I worried every day who the casualties were going to be.

I was grateful when we reached the infirmary entrance because these questions were making me nervous. I didn't know much about Draco's family; he hadn't really talked about them. I knew they were involved with Voldemort, but I didn't know how much, or what Draco's relationship was like with his parents. I didn't want to say too much in case I accidentally told her something Draco didn't want her to know. "He's just through here," I muttered as we entered and I made my way to the room Draco had been occupying.

I pushed open the door and almost reached for my wand when I saw Pansy Parkinson standing next to Draco's bed; they had obviously been talking and by the look on both their faces, it hadn't been a friendly conversation. After last night, I didn't imagine it would have been, and Draco's next words confirmed it.

"Harry," he said lightly, almost smiling at me. "Parkinson here thinks she can walk about making threats on my life. What do you think about that, Love?"

My throat closed up as I was acutely aware of Narcissa Malfoy standing behind me. I wasn't sure what he wanted her to know; Parkinson was a family friend of his after all. "I, um-" I stammered. I didn't know what to say. "Draco, your-"

"Draco, darling," Lady Malfoy interrupted me greeting her son and rushing up to his bedside as though Draco hadn't just announced he'd been delivered a death threat by his ex girlfriend. "How are you feeling, Sweetheart? I was absolutely beside myself when Severus called, and when your father told me he would be attending to you alone and I wasn't to come, well, I didn't know what to think."

"I'm fine, Mother," Draco replied, almost whining at her; it was so cute. "Really, there's nothing wrong with me."

"Harry was coming up to see you and was kind enough to escort me here," she added, glancing over to me. I looked over to Pansy who looked like a frightened rabbit, her eyes flitted around the room looking for an exit, but there was none for her, unless she was to push aggressively past me to get to the door.

"I was just coming to keep you company, but I'll come back later," I said, giving Draco a meaningful look that I hoped conveyed my many thoughts and concerns. I wanted to know that he was happy to be left alone with his mother, even though it killed me to leave him, especially after what Parkinson had obviously said to him.

"After class, okay?" he suggested, giving me a small smile, and I nodded.

"Lovely to see you again, Harry," Narcissa said with haughty indifference, but as she leaned in to place a brief kiss on my cheek, her expression changed. "Make her pay," she whispered to me, and her words shivered all the way through me. "Perhaps you should escort Pansy back to the Great Hall," she suggested for us all to hear and Parkinson glared at me warily.

"That's quite alright, Mrs. Malfoy," Parkinson replied with an icy politeness.

"Nonsense, I insist," Draco's mother pressed. "There are o_bviously _uncontrolled sociopaths in this school and I wouldn't want you getting hurt."

I smirked at Parkinson as my respect for Draco's mother grew exponentially. I held my elbow out to the snooty Slytherin girl and, after a wary glance at Lady Malfoy, she sneered at me and accepted my arm. I glanced back at Draco one last time before leaving him with his mother and he looked shocked to say the least at watching his boyfriend stroll out of his room arm in arm with his ex-girlfriend.

As soon as we were out of sight, Parkinson tried to pull herself free of my grasp. "Uh uh uh," I tutted sarcastically. "I promised I'd look after you until we got to the Great Hall. After all, there are dangerous people about."

"Not dangerous _for me_, Potter," she hissed, obviously trying to threaten or intimidate me; it didn't work. "Can't say the same for you or your faggot boyfriend!" Now _that _pissed me off.

Lady Malfoy had asked me to 'make her pay' and my mind was whirring with possibilities – Pansy Parkinson looking more like a troll than a human; Pansy Parkinson mysteriously disappears from Hogwarts grounds, never to be seen again; Pansy Parkinson a bloody mess the way Zabini was by the time I finished with him. The trouble was, I was a Gryffindor, and deep down I knew I could never hurt someone on purpose – in the heat of the moment was one thing, but to maliciously and intentionally injure another person was something I was surely incapable of. Still, I was determined to make her pay somehow, even if it would simply scare her into backing off from Draco.

"Threats, Pansy?" I said sweetly, tutting at her again. "That's not very lady-like."

"Fuck you, Potter!" she spat and I could have laughed at how pathetic she sounded.

"Your friend Blaise isn't back from St. Mungo's, is he?" I asked her casually; as I continued to grip her arm so tightly I was sure she would bruise. Parkinson paled at my question and struggled against me again. "I'm afraid I got a little carried away with him, but I was just so _angry_. The thought of someone hurting Draco just makes me _crazy_ and I lose control." I paused waiting for her to react, but she didn't. She looked terrified walking so close to me, but she didn't try to escape again and she didn't try to respond. "I know you were involved, Parkinson," I hissed at her and I could see her tremble. "I _will _make you pay for what you did, you won't know when or how, but I can promise you that you will regret it."

She turned to look at me with wide, frightened eyes and they gave her away, even though her mouth was pursed into an angry line. "Pretty words for a Gryffindor," she retorted shakily. "What are you going to do, kill me right under the nose of your precious Headmaster?" She was trying to come across as nonchalant, but her tone made me feel like she was as much asking genuinely as she was trying to let me know she didn't believe me capable of hurting her as I said I would.

By this time we were almost at the Great Hall and I knew I wouldn't be able to hold her for much longer without having to answer to her idiot Slytherin friends. "Of course not, Pansy," I replied was sarcastic innocence. "But if anyone in this school could get away with it, who do you think that would be?"

She threw me one last horrified look, like I was mentally deranged, before I released her arm and she took off down the corridor like she had a Horntail chasing after her.

I had set her up nicely, she'd be frightened of me for a while until she convinced herself I wouldn't follow through on my threats, but I knew even now that I wouldn't be satisfied with that alone. Revenge wasn't exactly my cup of tea, I was a Gryffindor after all, not a Slytherin, but for Draco and the silent promise I'd made to his mother, I wanted to do _something. _

I wasn't given much time to think about it before Hermione and Ron found me pondering in the hallway and shanghaied me to Transfiguration.

--

We were having chicken and vegetable pie for lunch, normally one of my favourite dishes, but today it didn't taste like anything. I didn't enjoy it at all, which only added to my misery since I knew under different circumstances I would have enjoyed it immensely.

"Harry, you'll see him first thing after class today," Hermione reminded me gently, and despite our getting on so well today, still a little nervously. "You can't help it if he was asleep, and neither can he."

I shrugged and sighed woefully; she was right of course, if Draco was sleeping I wouldn't have wanted to wake him, but it would have been nice to see him all the same – he is beautiful when he sleeps. Surprisingly, the next bite of pie tasted much better and I looked over at Hermione gratefully; apparently she'd cheered me up somewhat.

"Betts is probably our weakest player at the moment," Ron started to say to me and I could see it in Hermione's face that she'd already switched off. She'd never warmed to Quidditch and I'd imagine Ron would have bored her with talk of it many times over the last few months. Ever since I'd agreed to play for him he'd been talking about it to me constantly, not that I minded, I just wasn't sure how I would explain it to him if I decided to pull out of the team – it all depended on Draco really, if he needed me… "but if we make sure Dean stays close to him to support him I think we should be alright," I heard Ron say. I'd heard it before and I was starting to switch off myself, Ron had been appointed Captain in my place once I'd left but it was obvious he didn't really know what he was doing; he was double checking every decision with me.

For one reason or another, my eyes drifted over to the Slytherin table and I spied Pansy Parkinson sitting almost completely surrounded by a bunch of idiot Slytherin thugs as if they would protect her. She was obviously still nervous about what I would do to her, and so she should be! Not that I knew what I was going to do yet, but I was sure it wouldn't be anything less than what the bitch would deserve.

"… Tabbart isn't bad though, I saw him practicing on a school broom over the weekend, but he might be a bit young yet for the team," Ron continued to babble as I continued to stare at that ugly pug Parkinson. "Don't you think, Harry?"

"Sorry?" I asked, my attention roughly snapped back to Ron.

"Obviously Harry has a lot to worry about right now, Ron," Hermione interrupted Ron's response. "You shouldn't bother him with trivial matters."

"Trivial matters!?" Ron gasped looking scandalized.

"Yes, Harry has enough to think about with Draco, not to mention that Transfiguration test we have next week and the History of Magic essay due the day after that. Do I need to remind you Professor Binns wants _three _lengths of parchment!"

"Oh fuck," I swore quietly, but my two friends heard me easily. "That much?"

"I don't make these things up for fun you know," she huffed and I saw Ron balk and mutter something most likely not very nice under his breath. "What was that, Ronald?" she asked, her eyes flashing angrily at him.

"Nothing," he replied, patting her affectionately on her knee, then he looked over at me. "Harry, you're staring at the Slytherin table again, you know Malfoy's still in the infirmary, don't you?" he said in a teasing tone; as if I could forget Draco was being maliciously kept from my side.

"Yeah, I know," I answered, trying to brush it off. "It was just…."

"Is it Pansy Parkinson?" Hermione questioned. "You still think she had something to do with what happened to Draco?"

I glared at her again from the other side of the room and, whether she knew I was staring at her or not, she was determinedly not looking at me. "I know she did, I just don't know what to do about it."

"Yes, and we need to do something about it," Hermione added. "Clearly, if she's still threatening Draco's life, she isn't giving up on hurting him, or killing him as she says. We can't have her hanging around Hogwarts, she's too much of a loose cannon."

I'd told them both what had happened that morning with Narcissa Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson, and Hermione found Mrs. Malfoy's behaviour both unexpected and encouraging; she was certain there was more to her motives than she was letting on. "Yeah," I agreed, "but how? What should we do, kill her ourselves before she kills Draco?" I made it plain with my tone of voice that I was exaggerating, but I don't think either of them underestimated the fact that if it came down to killing Parkinson or losing Draco that 'Avada Kedavra' would pass my lips without a second's thought.

"No, of course not," Hermione said, dismissing my suggestion. "Just leave it with me."

"What?" I asked incredulously. "What are you going to do?"

"Don't worry about it," she reassured me. "I'll take care of it, just focus on getting Draco better."

I frowned at her, not sure if I liked it much that she was taking on my desire for revenge; although I'm sure she saw attacking Parkinson as more preventative than revengeful. Still, Hermione was the smartest person I knew and she would do a better job at it than I would, and she'd probably get away with it too.

--

I hadn't been able to concentrate all day. With the Parkinson problem off my mind, I had only Draco to worry about and my chief concern was my relationship with him and whether or not being with me was going to get him killed. There were so many risks and most of them I knew about before I gave in to his sad puppy eyes and persistent affections; I never should have caved, it was stupid of me. But now I was so deeply in love with him I couldn't see a way out. What I really wanted to do was send him away, out of the country, I could deal with Voldemort and when it was all over he could come back to a much safer wizarding England. I knew he'd never agree to that though.

I sighed. It was so close to the end of the day and I would be able to go and see him. After hours of thought and pretending to be listening in Defense, I knew there was no way I could make any of these decisions on my own. There were too many unknowns, too many things Draco and I had avoided talking about, too many things I could tell he was keeping from me, and while I was happy to allow some secrets, I wouldn't allow any that would get him killed. He was going to have to confess about his family, the extent of his involvement with Voldemort, and then we were going to have to come up with a plan to keep him safe.

I was determined to get the answers I needed and I wasn't going to let him distract me with his lips and his nimble fingers as he so loved to do.

"Okay, that's it for today," Professor Hobble announced, and I jumped out of my seat. "Don't forget to read pages two hundred and thirty five to two hund…"

I was out the door.

I'd been anxious to see Draco all day, but I didn't want to arrive breathless as though I'd run all the way there, so apart from a few eager hops, I walked quickly down corridors and staircases on my way to the Hospital Wing. I was still distracted by the many thoughts running through my brain and I wasn't completely aware of what was going on around me, which was stupid in hindsight as it led to me connecting directly with another student, knocking their books all over the ground.

As I bent to help them pick their belongings up, apologizing profusely for my ineptitude, I realized this wasn't just any other student. His blue eyes were still filled with the same hurt and anger I seen in them the last time he'd let me look at him. "Mike," I said, choking on his name. I hadn't thought about him in a while and I felt guilty for it.

"Fuckin Hell, Harry," he barked at me. "Watch where you're going!"

"I'm sorry about that," I replied meekly. "I haven't seen you around lately."

"That's because I've been avoiding you," he retorted as though it were a well-known fact.

"Oh, right." I supposed it was fair enough really, I wouldn't want to see me either, but it worried me that I hadn't seen him at meals and I wondered where he was eating.

"Can I have my book back?" he demanded, and I realized I was gripping one of his books rather tightly in my hands.

"I wish it didn't have to be this way," I told him softly. He was right in front of me and he'd never felt so far away. I knew he was hurting and I wanted to make it stop, but I knew I couldn't; I'd only make things worse for him. He was right to avoid me, it was the best way.

"Fine," he huffed. "You know what, just keep it." He slung his bag over his shoulder and started to walk away.

"No!" I called out to him. "Wait! I'm sorry, here, take it!" I jogged after him, thrusting the book out in front of me. He snatched it from my hands and, without a word, he stormed off down the corridor.

My heart sank as I watched him leave and I could feel deep within me that it was my fault he was in so much pain. If I'd stayed with him and made love to him like he'd wanted me to, he wouldn't be hurting like this and Draco would never have ended up in hospital fighting for his life.

I felt horrible, but I was more determined than ever to protect Draco. I couldn't do anything about Mike's pain, but I could still make sure Draco survived this war.

My determination grew with each step I took and when I arrived at the infirmary I was sure not even Madam Pomfrey could have kept me from Draco.

"We need to talk about everything," I announced as soon as I entered his room. I wasn't going to let him stop me or put it off any longer.

"Oh, hello, Baby," he teased me. "I missed you too. Yes, my day was just fine, how was yours?"

"I mean it, we can't avoid this any longer," I insisted as I sat on the edge of his bed. "We have to make a plan to keep you safe. I won't allow you to get hurt because I was too stupid to stay away from you."

Draco took my hand and squeezed it. "Don't get all worked up, Harry," he told me. "We'll sort everything out. First though, I need to tell you what my mother came to talk to me about."

His smile fell from his face and he frowned at me seriously. I was suddenly extremely curious about what Lady Malfoy had to say.

Author's Note: Well, I must say, these upcoming chapters are some of the best, and filled with terrible cliffhangers. That's how much we both love you all.


	21. Draco: The Sound of Guts Spilling

Author's Note: My turn again. Many thanks to Laurel for her beta work and thanks to all who have reviewed so far.

"Harry, Parkinson here thinks she can walk about making threats on my life. What do you think about that, Love?" I asked, not arrogant enough to take my eyes of the Slytherin minx in question. Who knew what Pansy might do when cornered? I certainly wasn't going to be caught unawares around her ever again.

I got no answer for a moment, and nearly wrenched my gaze away from the girl to see if I'd been mistaken in thinking it was Harry who had just joined us. The footsteps had sounded like him, and I knew he'd be eager to get back up here and see me after breakfast, in fact, I would be surprised if he'd finished at all. I would have felt the same, of course, but I thought it was endearing the way he always wanted to be at my side. At least I knew I wasn't alone in my ridiculous crush.

Before I could be careless enough to glance at the doorway, however, he finally mumbled an incoherent response and I nearly sighed in relief. If I'd been mistaken and it was backup for Pansy and not myself, well, I didn't want to think about the outcome of that error. "I, um Draco, your-" he stammered and finally I couldn't help myself. I let my gaze wander quickly to the door at least I had expected it to be a quick glance. What I hadn't expected was to see my mother swirl into the room like an elegant tornado.

"Draco, darling." Her words cut Harry off abruptly, which I would have glared at her for if not for the look of relief on Harry's face. I wondered then just how long Harry had been subjected to my mother's company. I of all people knew how gracious and terrifying she could be and, as she strode toward my bed with a determined purpose, I worried about what feigned pleasantries had been shared between them in the corridor. "How are you feeling, Sweetheart? I was absolutely beside myself when Severus called, and when your father told me he would be attending to you alone and I wasn't to come, well, I didn't know what to think."

"I'm fine, Mother," I replied, trying to keep the ire out of my voice. By the teasing smile on Harry's face, I had failed quite miserably. Seeing my mother there just made me feel like I was ten years old again and being fed a regiment of chicken soup and Pepper-Up Potions. "Really, there's nothing wrong with me."

"Harry was coming up to see you and was kind enough to escort me here," she explained, as if she knew I'd be wondering. I'm sure she knew exactly what I was thinking. She always had an eerie way of reading my thoughts, or at least seeming to. When her eyes trained over to Harry, there was a look in those icy blue depths that made me wish the trait worked both ways. Harry, however, didn't seem to pay much mind, his own attention was raptly attached to the girl still sitting on the edge of my bed. Pansy looked frightened as she took in my mother's haughty form beside her, as well she should be. Most assumed Father held all the power in our family, but those who knew the Malfoys well, as the Parkinsons did, knew that Narcissa Malfoy was a source of more raw power than my father could ever hope to possess. She would do anything, and I mean anything, to keep her family safe, which was the only reason she ever agreed to throw our lot in with the Dark Lord.

"I was just coming to keep you company, but I'll come back later," Harry said. His words were simple enough but those green eyes had worry behind them and I wondered about the source. Was he afraid to leave me alone with my own mother, or was he worried about Pansy?

"After class, okay?" I told him, shooting a small smile his way that I hoped would alleviate his fears, whatever they were. He had no reason to worry about either of the women at my bedside. I could handle them both if I had to.

"Lovely to see you again, Harry," Mother told him in her usual tone, but surprising both myself, and apparently Harry as well, she leaned in and placed and light kiss on his cheek. "Perhaps you should escort Pansy back to the Great Hall," she suggested. I knew then that she'd given Harry an order of some kind, and I could reasonably guess that the flavor of that order would be sour on Pansy's lips. I couldn't see my Harry fulfilling Mother's wishes, but it was nice to see them bonding.

I nearly laughed aloud at the thought, which quickly morphed into an image of my mother and Harry sitting over tea and discussing the best ways to murder someone and not get caught. I knew Mother was fully aware of what had happened to me, and would have suspected Pansy even if she hadn't come in when she did. Narcissa would want no less than the girl's death, and allowing Harry to take care of it was a test. I frowned when that realization occurred to me, because there was no way Harry would kill the girl; I wouldn't want him to, someone else, sure, but not my lovely, pure Harry. Perhaps if he was clever enough in his punishment he could still earn Mother's respect. I made a mental note to discuss it with him later.

"That's quite alright, Mrs. Malfoy," Parkinson replied, clearly feigning the manners she typically used around my family. The Malfoy name had fallen out of favor even more than I'd suspected if she was able to refuse my mother anything, but that worry quickly fled when I saw the murderous glare Narcissa shot Pansy before making her voice sickeningly sweet to contrast that frightening gaze.

"Nonsense, I insist," she pressed. "There are o_bviously _uncontrolled sociopaths in this school and I wouldn't want you getting hurt."

Harry seemed pleased when all the color drained from Pansy's face and he held his arm out for her as he sometimes would for me, prepared to escort her to her death. Whether Harry realized it or not, Pansy was going to die for what she'd done to me, it was just a matter of time now. He glanced at me over his shoulder, a haunted smile on his lips, and I did my best to hide my shocked jealousy at seeing Pansy on my boyfriend's arm. There was no need to be jealous of a corpse.

The moment Harry left, all sense of decorum fled my mother's body and she sat heavily on the edge of my bed, her hands going immediately to either side of my face. "Lucius and Severus said you were in frightful shape last night. Tell me _exactly_ what happened."

I knew better than to ignore her plea or try to convince her I was fine, so I launched into my tale as blandly as possible. I told her about my courtship of Harry, about being attacked, about waking up here with Father looming over me, and every detail I thought relevant in between. At some point during my story her hands fell from my cheeks to cover my hand instead, and she would squeeze it tightly when I spoke of Blaise or Pansy, or the curses they'd leveled on me. "Pomfrey tells me I'll be okay to leave after dinner tonight, but I'm not sure how I can when my entire House has turned against me," I finished.

"Well, she's done an adequate job at healing you," she replied, her haughty tone returning now that she was certain her traitor son would live. Deep down I knew her loyalty was to me, but it didn't stave my concern that the Malfoy traits of self-preservation would eventually take over and she and Father would leave me to my own fate, so as not to meet death at the Dark Lord's wand. I knew she loved me, as did my father, but would love be enough? I'd been wondering the same thing about Harry and I only just that morning, and I found it curious that in all my sixteen years, I hadn't managed to form one easy relationship. Every tenuous connection I had seemed to be wrought with conflict. When would I get a chance to just take a deep breath and not fear what the following day would bring? At what point could I begin immersing myself in the joy that being with Harry had to offer? Would it ever happen? Would I ever get the chance to be happy and free?

"Stop being ungrateful, Mother," I chastised and she pursed her lips at me.

"What would you like me to do? Send her a gift basket for doing her job?" she bit out and I smiled warmly at her.

"That would be lovely," I replied and her momentary shock was worth the glare I got afterward.

"I'm not sure this Potter boy is a good influence on you," she told me, but then her next words dispelled my instant worry. "He seems to really love you though." That admission was as good as her announcing our impending engagement and I smiled.

"I love him too," I replied firmly and she sighed.

"So he's told me, but that only makes this whole situation that much more difficult." I'd never seen my mother look tired before, but just then, she looked utterly exhausted. "_Finite Incantatem_," I whispered, ignoring her narrowed glance. I had been too distracted by Harry and Pansy to notice it before, but once I dispelled all of her glamours, I realized how unwell my mother truly was. Her hair wasn't quite as smooth as it always was, her eyes had dark circles beneath them, her lips were chapped from worrying at them, and her robes were wrinkled from more than the day's use.

"Mother, what has happened?" I asked, fear entering my voice for the first time since she'd arrived. I couldn't believe all of her disheveled state was over my condition. That was only last night, after all, and she looked like a woman who had been awake for weeks. She quickly renewed the glamours and pursed her lips unkindly.

"I would prefer to discuss it with you when you are well," she stated and moved to get up, but I grabbed her hand.

"I am well enough, Mother. Tell me now," I insisted, sitting up and leveling her with my most petulant glare. She apparently knew better than to argue, probably recalling the many times I'd used that same look as a child to get a toy or extra desert. She could never refuse it back then either.

"Things have been rather…_tense_ at the manor of late, and your father and I have been disagreeing on how to handle it," she replied. Those words alone spoke volumes. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy always showed a united front, even to me. I found myself slightly afraid of what it meant that my parents were not only arguing, but actually telling _me_ about it. I held no misgivings that my parents never fought, but they never fought where anyone else could overhear them, and they never admitted to it.

"Is this about me, or is this about the Dark Lord?" I asked quietly, fully aware that there could be prying ears nearby.

Mother cast a silencing bubble around my bed with just a low flick of her wand, but she leaned in and whispered as if she hadn't bothered; ever the cautious witch, my mother. "Both," she replied. "I want him out of my house and out of our lives," she hissed, and I'd only heard her take that tone with the house-elves. "Your father seems ignorant to the havoc that creature is causing in our home."

"He's not ignorant to it," I assured her. "He told me to break up with Harry."

"Don't you dare," she growled, narrowing her eyes as if preparing to argue with me. When it seemed clear enough that I had no intention to, she continued. "Harry Potter is the only thread we have connecting us to the other side of this war. Your father is too blinded by the Dark Lord's propaganda to see that our side has just as much of a chance of losing as theirs, perhaps more so with this madman at the helm of our attack."

"Why are we even attacking?" I asked. "So what if a few Mudbloods get accepted into Hogwarts. What harm can they be if they are as weak as the Dark Lord says they are? And who cares about the Muggles? We stay out of their way and they stay out of ours. Sure, they're a dull lot, but is that worth exterminating them all?"

Mother looked at me as if I'd sprouted a second and then a third head consecutively, and then she schooled her features into a cold mask. "Obviously you've been listening to Potter more than I'd feared. It is not my intention to have you defect to the Order, Draco, merely to see what you can learn about their camp, and seek refuge there if you can."

I rolled my eyes and she popped me sharply across the jaw, healing it with her wand in the very next instance. "You'll do well to remember that I'm your mother, Draco," she hissed, to which I nodded and rubbed lightly at the spot she'd slapped, even thought it no longer so much as stung.

"I won't use Harry any more than I already have. I can't find safety within the Order of the Phoenix because I couldn't possibly hide the Dark Mark from Dumbledore the same as I've been doing with Harry," I explained. "But that doesn't change my opinions, Mother. I'm lost, stuck in the middle of two sides. I don't completely believe in what the Dark Lord says or does anymore, so I can't come back to your side, and I have too many lies and years of darkness wrapped around me to be welcomed by Harry's side."

My mother sighed and nodded, warmth flooding out of her normally icy gaze. "I understand," she told me, and the relief must have been apparent on my face because she stroked the space she'd just hit and gave me a tender smile. "You and I are not so different, Draco. We're both easily swayed by the people we love."

"I'm not easily swayed," I argued, frustrated that she wasn't taking me seriously.

"Did I ever tell you that I almost left with Andromeda when she was cast out of the Black family home?" she asked, and I shook my head, my eyes wide with shock. Growing up, I hadn't even been allowed to utter the name without being grounded for a week. "Well, I did. She'd nearly convinced me that Muggles weren't so bad, and that our pureblood families were just being elitist."

I made a face that said what my mouth would never dare to. _'Well, aren't we?'_ But she paid it little mind.

"Your grandmother sat me down the night Andromeda fled, and told me the truth. On the surface, there is nothing wrong with Muggles. They are essentially the same as us in every respect, except for their lack of magic, but Draco, where would we be without that? Do you know how many magical families there were just a century ago?"

I shrugged, and she gave me a withering glance that told me I needed to study harder. "I would guess at maybe fifty pureblood families, and more that were mixed," I said, trying to give her any answer I could think of.

"Two centuries ago, there were no mixed families," she told me and I let her see that I didn't believe her. "It was forbidden by the Ministry back then to wed, or even so much as fornicate with a Muggle. Back then, there were over two hundred and fifty pureblooded wizarding families. Then the Ministry grew lax, and began softening the penalty for those who bore children with Muggles. Shortly afterward, they even allowed marriages between them, hoping to bridge the gap between our kind and theirs. One century ago there were fewer than fifty pureblood families left. Do you know how many there are now, Draco?"

"Less than half of that," I replied quietly, a dull thrumming in the back of my head as her words sunk in.

"We're dying out, Son. Slowly, but surely, to the point where your children might see the fading out of the pureblood lines altogether," she told me softly. "This war is trying to preserve our kind."

"This war is killing everyone's kind," I rebuked. "If the Slytherins had succeeded in their mission, another pureblood family would have been left without an heir."

She sat up, her blonde hair cascading down her back in a wave. "You say the word Slytherin as if you no longer belong to them," she told me fiercely. "Do you want to be a Gryffindor now, Draco? Is that your wish?"

"No," I spat, "But forgive me if I no longer trust the House I was sorted into. They tried to kill me, Mother."

"And for that they will pay," she assured me. "I saw the handsome work your boyfriend did on Zabini's face, and I daresay he'll make it through the night."

"What Harry did to _Blaise_?" I asked and felt confusion thrill through me. Harry hadn't mentioned confronting Blaise, and he certainly hadn't mentioned leaving him fatally wounded. Was my pure, innocent Gryffindor more tainted than I thought? And if so, was that my fault?

"Yes, apparently he took out his aggression toward your attackers solely on one boy. Using his fists to bash the boy's brains in was a bit crude for my taste, but whatever gets the job done," she quipped, as if commenting on her newest cloak. My mother, the cold-hearted bitch.

I wondered in that moment what Harry would say if he heard my mother's words. Would he agree with her, would he be appalled and disgusted? My hunch was on the latter. Did he even know how much damage he'd inflicted on Blaise? I began to worry that I wasn't the only one being influenced in this relationship. It was as if the two of us were blending together. I was growing more thoughtful and compassionate, while Harry was growing more cunning and cruel. I'm not sure that's what I wanted, but I didn't know how to stop it either. I would have done the same had I been in Harry place, although I might not have stopped before his breathing did, but I hoped it was just the situation that made him react that way, not that my Slytherin nature was somehow tainting him.

"And you told him to take care of Pansy in the same manner?" I asked, and she gave me the proudest gaze.

"You noticed that, did you? Well, of course you did. I didn't tell him how to dispatch of her, only to make her pay for what she did to you," she replied. Talking about pain and torture came far too easily from her lips. It seemed out of place on someone so dainty and beautiful, even though I'd grown up with her speaking in such a manner. She could talk about Unforgivables like they were new crumpet recipes; in fact, I once overheard her talking about both at the same tea party, the topics within mere breaths of one another.

"And if he doesn't kill her?" I asked, because I had little doubt he would do such a thing. I doubt he even intended for Blaise to die and I wondered how much of a hand my family was going to play in his death, or if Harry really had inflicted that much damage.

"Well, I doubt that he will, but if he does, he might make a suitable partner for a Malfoy," she replied.

"Don't be coy, Mother. You would never be happy with Harry and I as a couple," I retorted sharply. "There is no room for two gay men to produce an heir, and Harry's not a pureblood."

"He's second generation pureblood, the Potters were once a very respected family, and his power alone might make up for his mother's blood within him. If he were to defeat the Dark Lord as everyone seems to be counting on, I would give you both my blessing," she replied. "Although your father will be a harder sell."

"You and I both know that you could sell father his own shoes if it pleased you to try." She smiled sweetly at the compliment and I sighed. "But there is still the problem of an heir and even you might not be able to convince Father to wed me to someone who couldn't further the family name."

"I wouldn't worry over that tidbit too much, Son," she replied mysteriously. "Do you think you're the first pureblood who male who preferred other males?"

"No, but-" I began, but she cut me off with a sharp squeeze of my hand.

"Let's leave these premature topics alone. All you need to decide here, Draco, is how important it is for you to have a life with Potter. If he scratches my back, I'll scratch his," she told me.

"So if he kills the Dark Lord," I started, eyes wide with sudden understanding.

"I'll give him my only son," she replied, looking more serious than I'd ever seen her.

"Just like that?" I asked.

"You act as though Potter's victory is assured, but very little about this war is a sure thing, Draco. Even if he beats the Dark Lord in the end, there is a chance he could die in the process," she told me, and I knew then that her preferred outcome would be for Voldemort and Harry to kill one another so she could get her cake and marry me off to a pureblooded witch too.

"I know," I whispered, staring at a spot on the wall just behind her head. I could hardly stomach the idea of Harry fighting that madman, but I knew his mind was set on that very thing. It drove me crazy to think of Harry at the end of Voldemort's wand. I could almost feel the Avada Kedavra just thinking about it and I shuddered.

"Are you cold?" she asked me at once, casting a warming charm before the words could even leave her mouth.

"I'm fine," I assured her, though that was nowhere near the truth. Still, what point was there to worry her when she could do nothing to heal the pain I felt. It wasn't something that could be broken with spells or potions. I needed Harry, I needed to hold him, to kiss him, to tell him everything and have him forgive me. "I love you, Mother," I told her, though I knew not where the words came from. I hadn't said them in earnest for years.

"I love you too, Draco," she replied automatically and then paused, as if realizing she'd just parroted me. "I do, you know?" she added, her eyes warming. "No matter what happens in this war, your father and I both love you very much."

I nodded, unable to find words that would explain how I felt. I knew they loved me, I also knew that they loved themselves more, and as much as they cared for me, they would turn on me if it would save their own lives. She got up, ran her hands down the length of her cloak to vanish any folds or wrinkles that might have accumulated. "I trust you know how to get in touch with me, should you need to?" she asked.

"I do," I replied with a nod.

"Ignore your father, he's just being a tyrant, and an ignorant one at that. We can use all the allies we can get, and I'm not picky about which side they come from," she huffed. "You should get some sleep," she told me, and before I could protest she'd summoned Madam Pomfrey over and together made me take a Calming Draught so that I was asleep before Mother even left the ward.

* * *

I woke up alone, and judging by the state of the sun dipping low over the horizon, I knew I had missed Harry's lunchtime visit. I was instantly angry with both Pomfrey and my mother for making me sleep – I had really wanted to see Harry – but my frustration didn't last too long. I felt refreshed and much better than I had that morning, so there was little doubt that the sleep had helped. Besides, if Harry had shown up after that twisted conversation with my mother, I might have rushed ahead of myself in telling him what happened before I had a chance to think about everything.

As it was, my mother had left me confused and wary, wondering who to listen to and what to do about it once I decided. Father wanted me to break things off with Harry, which I could see the logic in, but my heart protested to such a degree I didn't think I could go through with it if I tried. I loved Harry too much to leave him, but I didn't want either of us getting hurt because of our relationship, and my being in the hospital wing was proof that injury would be unavoidable if we stayed together. However, weighing that against the anguish I felt at the very idea of letting Harry go, my beating by the Slytherins was a small price to pay in my opinion. I would outlast whatever pain they tried to doll out just to remain by Harry's side.

With that decided, my mother's proposition began looking more and more appealing. If I could get her bargain in writing, her word that she would not only _allow_, but would bless Harry and I as a bonded couple if we were to defeat Voldemort, then the fighting might just be worth it in the end.

I'd never really imagined myself on a battlefield, couldn't see myself in dueling gear, running across fields and taking down enemy after enemy, as I'd read in the history textbook. I'd always assumed my place would be behind the scenes, working to defeat the other side with potions I would brew, or plans I would assist with. Even though my father had been sent on several hands-on missions, I figured I was too young to be sent out into battle, even though I knew how expendable the Dark Lord considered me. It was naïve, I knew, but it allowed me to delude myself into a false sense of security…until now.

As it now stood, I couldn't imagine allowing Harry to go into battle without me at his side. I couldn't picture myself waiting in safety for him to return to me, wondering what had happened, or if I would ever see him again. If Harry died, I would die with him, and finish the bastard Voldemort off if Harry couldn't. Was I afraid? I'd be foolish not to be, but fear was nothing compared to the love I held for Harry. Even if I didn't believe in the same things, even if I wanted to one day live in a world that had more pureblood families, or live a life that was less controlled by the Ministry, or live without hiding our presence from Muggles…I could put all of that aside to give Harry the support he would need in the war.

I was his, and I could not stand apart from him. I would rather stand against my own father in the final battle than face off against Harry.

* * *

One might think that making the decision to try and defeat the darkest wizard of our time in a bloody war would make you heavy with fear and doubt, but I felt light as a feather. If fact, I'd never felt so sure of anything in my life, save my love for the silly Gryffindor striding into my room with a look of sheer determination creasing his adorable forehead.

"We need to talk about everything," he demanded without preamble, and I could tell that when he said everything, he meant _everything_.

"Oh, hello, Baby," I replied instead, my voice thick with teasing to mask my nerves. "I missed you too. Yes, my day was just fine, how was yours?"

"I mean it, we can't avoid this any longer," he insisted with a huff, coming to plant himself resolutely on the edge of my bed, like a sentient gargoyle that refused to budge. "We have to make a plan to keep you safe. I won't allow you to get hurt because I was too stupid to stay away from you."

I took his hand in mine, noticing how warm and calloused it was against my own. I missed his hands, his lips, his body. It was easy to be distracted from all my problems when I was near him, but he was right. We needed to talk. There were things he had to know about me, things I wasn't proud of, but he deserved to know nonetheless. "Don't get all worked up, Harry," I whispered, trying to calm him. Who knew how he would take what I had to say? I wondered if he knew what he was really asking for, if he knew what _everything_ would entail? "We'll sort everything out. First though, I need to tell you what my mother came to talk to me about."

He blinked and took a deep breath, apparently willing to set his demands aside for the moment. I gave him a warm smile, which was my only warning to him before I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him to me, devouring his mouth. I wanted this, needed it, and since it might be the last time Harry would allow my lips against his - after what I had to tell him I wouldn't blame him if he dropped me like a stone - I savored every flavor, every smooth plane and rough ridge, and most of all, I absorbed every muffled moan as he kissed me back.

All too soon Harry pushed me away, his breathing shallow as he shot me a withering glare. "No more distractions," he insisted. "Talk."

I laughed, though my heart felt heavy, and I let my head fall back to the pillow. "I love you, Harry. You know that right?"

He pursed his lips and nodded. "Of course. I love you too," he added hastily. "But it seems like you're trying to distract me again."

"I'm not," I assured him, my arms held up in mock surrender. "I just need you to remember that, okay?"

"Okay," he replied, the word drawn out in his obvious hesitation and sudden worry over what I had to say, but he didn't make me stop, so I pressed on.

"Mother told me to ignore Father's demand that I break things off with you," I told him. "Not that I hadn't already decided to ignore him," I added. "But it made me feel better knowing that I had at least one Malfoy on my side."

"Well, that's good, right?" he asked, obviously not getting why I'd been warning him of bad news, but he would understand soon enough.

"It is," I replied. "Mostly." He looked at me with confusion again and I wished he could just read my mind. I made a mental note to teach Harry Legilimency if he didn't leave me for what I had to tell him today. "She has an agenda, of course, but I don't know what it is. For the moment, she's on our side, but to what extent I've yet to determine."

"Why do Slytherins always have to be so sneaky?" he asked, exasperation practically leaking out of his pores. "Why can't they just say what they mean and mean what they say?"

"You mean like a Gryffindor?" I asked, smirking delicately up at my cute boyfriend. He looked so flustered when he met my gaze.

"Exactly!" he huffed.

I merely shrugged. We had enough to discuss without getting into the history of Slytherin politics. "All that matters is that she wants the Dark Lord defeated, and she expects you to do it."

It was Harry's turn to shrug, but his exasperation didn't fade. "That's nothing new. I'd be surprised if there was a single witch or wizard in all of England who didn't expect the same out of me. Even the Death Eaters probably expect me to fight him, even if they assume I'll lose."

"Well, that's true, but none of them are offering us a marriage contract," I told him. I waited for the words to sink in and the confusion to fade and I stifled my laughter when his eyes widened comically, the green depths shining with new questions. I was honestly terrified myself – not only of the decisions ahead and the fact that Harry might just reject me outright, but because we'd only been an official couple for a little over a week, and while I knew for a fact I wanted to wake up next to Harry every day for the rest of my life, it still scared me to see a permanent future placed to closely within my grasp – the fact that Harry seemed shocked and frightened as well made me feel a little better about my own twirling emotions.

"A what?" he whispered.

"You heard me correctly," I told him, and offered up an endearing smile. "Mother came to tell me, that if you kill the Dark Lord, she'll consent to sign me away to you."

"Sign you away…? But … I just-" Harry went on stammering for a few moments, apparently unable to grasp what I'd just said, but eventually he took a deep breath, let it out very slowly and ran a hand through his already tousled hair. "Explain," he demanded simply.

"I'm the last male hair to a line of ancient pureblood wizards, Harry." I could tell he wanted to interrupt with frantic declarations of 'I already know all this, get on with it', but I had to make sure he understood exactly how important my mother's visit was. "As such, I am duty bound to my family name, and my parents' wishes. Meaning, I must marry who they want, when they want, and I must produce an heir to carry on the Malfoy name."

"So, what were you going to do? Give me the sack the moment they ordered you to marry someone else?" he barked and I sighed, shaking my head.

"No. The moment I took up with you I discarded my name, Harry. I was prepared to be disowned, to lose everything – the manor, the vaults, the heritage, my own parents – just to have you instead," I explained and he remained silent, his eyes still wide as he absorbed what I was telling him. I wondered then if Harry had any inkling of what I'd given up for him, what I was willing to sacrifice to be his, but it didn't matter whether he understood the full extent of it or not. It was my decision to make, not his, and had he known everything, he probably would have let his heroic Gryffindor nature stand between us.

"I wouldn't have let you do that if I had known-" he began, confirming my thoughts as if he'd studied Legilimency on his own.

"I know, which is why I didn't tell you," I huffed. "I get to choose what's important to me, and you're more important than all of that. I've had those things my entire life and none of it has ever made me feel the way I do when I'm with you, Harry. I love you, more than all the money, family, or history in the world."

I choked on my last words, fighting the tears that strangled in my throat. Part of me was sure I was going to lose him despite all of this, I had been keeping secrets from him, lying to him from the start, and he would leave me when he discovered that I was no better than my traitorous father.

"Draco," Harry whispered tenderly, his fingers lacing together with mine, but I wouldn't let him say whatever words were on the tip of his tongue. I had to press on, I had to get this all out before it festered and rotted me from the inside out.

"So, my mother has offered me in exchange for the death of the Dark Lord, which gives me hope that I might not have to give up everything to be with you after all," I told him. "I know you, and I know you're planning to fight him, and I know you're powerful enough to win, Harry."

"So, what?" he asked teasingly, though his voice still shook slightly. "You're proposing?"

My smile didn't make it all the way up to my eyes, and that made his own grin falter. "Not just yet," I whispered. "There are things you have to know, things that might change your mind about me."

Dread set into his eyes, but I watched his jaw clench and then he nodded his head curtly, my queue to get it over with. I had thought for a long time on the best way to tell Harry my secrets. Sugar coating it was impossible, he'd see through any attempt to do that, and probably resent me for the effort. In the end, I figured it was best to just use Gryffindor bluntness, and rip it off quick like a bandage.

I pulled my sleeve up and held my arm aloft for Harry to see. It took his eyes a moment to focus, but when they did, he scrambled off the edge of the bed at the sight of the Dark Mark on my forearm. He couldn't get away from me fast enough, and as he scurried off he lost his footing and tumbled to the ground, his eyes wide with what I could only call horror. I winced, and it broke my heart in two, knowing that feeling was directed at me.

"Harry, please listen to me," I pleaded, begging him not to leave me, to at least let me explain before he decided.

"You … you're a," he gasped.

"A Death Eater," I confirmed with a shameful nod. "He branded me on my sixteenth birthday."

"But, I've seen that arm, I've touched it, I've – oh god," he groaned, hiding his face from my view as he buried it between his knees. The pieces of my heart cracked again as I saw the regret in that movement, regret for everything we'd shared.

"I've been hiding it from you because I knew you'd never give me the time of the day if you knew I was a Death Eater, Harry," I told him honestly. "I'm sorry. I really am."

He didn't acknowledge me either way, and I had no clue what he was thinking, so I just kept blubbering, digging myself deeper and deeper into the hole my lies had created. "When I first started talking to you, I did it out of foolish intentions. I thought that if I got you to fall in love with me, I could give you to the Dark Lord and he'd reward me for my efforts, but it didn't work that way. I fell for you long before you even looked at me with anything but distrust."

He looked up at me from his spot on the floor. He was sitting with his arms folded across his knees, his hair flopping moodily in his face, so that his eyes were the only things visible to me, and those usually expressive green orbs gave nothing away.

"What I feel now is honest, Harry, even if it didn't start out that way. I swear on my life that I couldn't even think of betraying you now. Even if you walk out that door and refuse to glance in my direction ever again, I still wouldn't do anything to deliberately hurt you. I love you so much," I told him, my voice frantic and pleading. "I'll join the Order, I'll promise my loyalty to you and Dumbledore and whomever you want if you'll keep me. I'll stand at your side and battle Lord V-Voldemort; I'll even fight my own father if that's what it takes to convince you that I'm yours, through and through. I belong to you, Harry, even if you don't want me. I always will."

His fingers kept twitching against his knees, forming into fists and then releasing them in the next moment. I stayed in bed, my own fingers digging into the mattress edge as I poised there and waited for him to Hex me, or slug me, or just get up and walk out. He didn't do any of that though, he just stared at me with those piercing gemstone eyes and made me wait to find out if there was anything I could do to make everything right again.

"So, what do you say, Harry?" I asked, when the silence became too much to bear, a sad, weary smile on my face. "Will you marry me?"

Author's Note: Well…it's all out now, hm?


	22. Harry: Warts and All

Author's Note: Well, now it's Laurel's turn and we get to see what Harry thinks of Draco's proposal

Chapter 22 – Harry – Warts and all.

The floor was hard underneath me, and cold, very cold. It numbed my hands and my arse as I sat there just staring up at him. I was speechless. What could I say to that? He'd confessed so much to me and I couldn't even bring myself to believe it, let alone know what to say to him.

"I know it's a lot and-" he started to babble again, but I couldn't take it anymore.

"Stop talking, Draco!" I demanded, beginning to feel panicked and stressed. "Please, just stop talking."

He shut his mouth quickly and I could see how hurt he was, but there was nothing I could do for him. I couldn't even help myself right now, let alone find the strength to comfort him. We sat there in silence for a few more minutes; him sitting up in his bed, and me on the ground. Eventually, my clarity and strength returned to me, and I knew I had to get out of there.

"I need to think," I announced as I pulled myself up on to my feet and walked out the door. I knew I wouldn't be able to clear my mind enough to process any of this while he was still in the room with me looking expectant and anxious. At the last second I turned and saw the devastation on his face; he must have thought I was leaving him and I had to wonder if he was right. I didn't know yet.

I didn't feel like myself anymore as I walked back up to Gryffindor Tower. I felt like someone else must have taken over my body, my mind was empty and I was frightened by how little I felt. I was numb.

_Death Eater. Death Eater. Death Eater. _

I could picture Draco clear as day standing in the circle of Death Eaters around me in fourth year, just as I'd seen his father. His proud, pointed features hidden underneath the cloak and mask of Voldemort's followers. I could see him pointing his wand at me and laughing at how much I had loved him and how it had all been a lie.

I wanted to die.

If he wanted to kill me, I wanted to let him.

A painful mixture of hurt and love ripped through my heart again as I remembered the passion of our first kiss and how he had held me all that night. He'd given himself to me, and that memory erased my imaginings of Draco standing with his father in that graveyard. The boy I knew could never wear that mask.

Suddenly he was my Draco again, and this time I imagined him frightened and forced at wand point to swear his loyalty to Voldemort. But I knew that couldn't have been true, Voldemort was not stupid enough to induct someone actively unwilling to join him; Draco may have been persuaded, but I knew he wouldn't have been physically forced.

By the time I reached the common room my head was no clearer than it had been when I'd been on the infirmary floor staring dumbly at my boyfriend as he proposed to me.

Oh God, he proposed to me.

I picked Hermione and Ron out of the crowd of Gryffindors almost immediately and made my way over to them. "Hermione," I said quietly. "Can I talk to you somewhere private?"

She looked up at me with wide, concerned eyes, and I wondered what I looked like to her. "Of course," she nodded. Ron looked at me like he wasn't sure if he should come with us and I shook my head at him.

"Later, I just need to talk to Hermione first," I explained and hoped he would understand.

Hermione led me out of the Tower and we twisted down corridors and staircases until she pulled me into an empty classroom where we wouldn't be disturbed. As we walked I tried to decide where I should start, what I wanted to tell her and what I wanted to keep to myself. In the end, all I could see in my mind was Draco holding his arm out to me so I could see that menacing tattoo moving dangerously on his once perfect skin.

"Harry," Hermione whispered carefully; I'd almost forgotten she was there with me in my daze of muddled thoughts. "What happened? I thought you were with Draco?"

I gritted my teeth as I felt my anger boil up in me; that tattoo in the forefront of my mind. "I'm going to kill him," I hissed. "If it takes the last breath I have, I will _kill _him."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione gasped. "What happened!? I thought everything was going so well for you and Malfoy?"

"He marked him!" I exclaimed, kicking over the desk in front of me. I wanted to lash out and destroy everything in my sight, just so that for a second it might not hurt so much. "He _touched _him!"

Hermione winced as the desk clattered to the floor, but she didn't move from where she stood. She just frowned at me, showing her pain and concern for what I was obviously feeling. "How did you find out?" she asked.

"He told me," I sighed. I was still angry, but my hurt was crushing in on me and taking over.

"I'm so sorry," she breathed, and her hand reached out halfway to touch me, before thinking better of it and pulling back. I was glad she did, I wasn't ready to be hugged yet. "Is it over between you two?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I don't think so. He asked me to marry him actually."

"He what!?" she practically shouted. "He proposed? Right after he told you he'd cheated on you!?"

"_What?_" I barked, my mouth falling open. "Draco hasn't cheated on me!" Part of me wanted to slap her for even suggesting it, but fortunately I had enough sense not to act on it.

"You just said Draco had touched some other guy, that he'd marked him or something, and you felt like killing him," she frowned. Her eyes were searching mine for meaning; she had gotten completely the wrong idea and I was going to have to explain it to her bluntly.

"Draco was the one who was marked – by _Voldemort!_" I snapped, frustrated with her - and with myself and Draco. "And I will kill Voldemort for touching him – and for so many other reasons. He took my family, and destroyed my life, but that bastard will fucking _pay _for marking my boyfriend! What if this ruins our relationship? How can I look at that tattoo every day for the rest of my life?"

"He's marked?" Hermione whispered, her mouth fell open a little in surprise and her shoulders tensed. "You mean Draco is a – a -"

"Death Eater," I finished for her. "Yes, he is."

"_Fuck_," she swore; something I don't think I've ever heard her do. "I thought he was too young."

"So did I," I scoffed in disbelief. It still didn't feel real to me even though I could see the Dark Mark clearly contrasting on Draco's pale skin.

"He's not even of age," she said softly, shaking her head in disapproval.

"Yes, well, I'm just guessing, but something tells me Voldemort doesn't have a very strong moral compass," I replied sarcastically.

"So, he just came out and told you this?" she questioned, ignoring my jibe. "Why?"

I shrugged wearily. "I dunno," I sighed. "Apparently his mother has given her approval of our relationship and consented to our marriage; he must have wanted to propose right away. He told me, I suppose, because he wanted to make sure I knew what I would be agreeing to."

"Wow," she breathed, sinking back into the desk behind her. "Did you answer him?"

I shook my head.

"What do you think you'll say?" she asked. If only I knew the answer to that question.

"I'm not sure," I replied. "There's a lot I need to think about first, but I needed to talk to someone."

"I understand," she nodded. "I'm glad you feel like you can talk to me, because you can, you know?"

"I know," I nodded and then looked up into her eyes. "I hate to ask you this, but can you not say anything to anyone, not even Ron. I want to tell him myself once I know what I'm going to say to Draco."

She looked at me resolutely. "Of course," she nodded; her eyes still burning with conviction, she was determined to prove herself to me. Again, that's not want I wanted from her, but if it worked in my favour I wasn't going to argue.

--

I was in a cell. It was dark and wet like I was in the Hogwarts dungeons under the lake. There was nothing else in the small room, no bed, no toilet, just me. I knew where I was, but I couldn't quite think of it. I couldn't really remember. Voldemort, I think, he must have captured me.

I wondered about Draco and, as if bidden by my thoughts, he arrived. He opened the cell door and came to me.

"Harry," he said, and he knelt down beside me where I sat on the hard stone. I was so glad to see him I threw my arms around his neck and pulled him close. He laughed. "You're such a fool, Harry," he said.

Somewhere inside me I knew what this was; he'd betrayed me. It wasn't Voldemort who'd captured me at all, it had been Draco. My Draco. I released him from our embrace immediately, and he looked at me with that devious smirk he used to wear so often.

"I love you, Harry," he said, mocking me with his tone of voice – teasing me – making it plainly obvious he didn't love me at all. "You're my first, Harry, I want you to make love to me, _Harry_." He kept saying my name and it hurt more each time he did.

I tried to crawl away from him. I couldn't stand for some reason, but I tried to shuffle myself away from him anyway. "The Dark Lord is so pleased with me, Harry," he laughed joyously. "I think he's going to reward me nicely for this! I may even get promoted, he trusts me now."

His words stabbed through my soul, shattering it.

"He's going to kill you, you know?" he said, smiling at me. "And the best part is, he's going to let me watch! I'm really moving up in the world now, Harry, and it's all thanks to you and your heart – your weak, weak heart." He laughed uproariously and I could feel my weak heart breaking. "I can't believe you fell for me, you idiot! Now, I get to watch you _die!_"

--

I woke with a start and was surprised, for a fraction of a second, to find myself in my bed in my dorm room. The air was chilly, but my body was boiling, I was covered in sweat and the blankets felt like they were suffocating me. I kicked them off angrily and tried not to think of the dream I'd just had. In the quiet room it was hard to hide from the feeling I got when I saw Draco laugh at my impending death, and how happy he was to watch it happen.

I slipped out of bed and tiptoed silently to the bathroom, feeling relief at the cold air washing over me and drying up my sweat. I lit the candles in the bathroom and closed the door, leaning over the sink wondering if my heaving stomach had anything to push back up. I glanced tiredly up at myself in the mirror; I looked like Hell, which was fitting since I felt like Hell too.

"How did this happen?" I whispered to myself.

In that moment I knew, with surprising and instantaneous clarity, that I would be able to forgive Draco of being a Death Eater and being Marked. I could forgive him for pledging himself to Voldemort and his devastating cause. He was young and easily influenced by his deranged father; I couldn't completely blame him for his mistake. What I couldn't seem to get past, however, was his betrayal.

Not too long ago Draco had wanted me dead, and he was willing to see to that personally by tricking me, betraying me, and offering me up to Voldemort on a silver platter.

How could I be with him after that?

In the back of my mind something reminded me that I had been hoping to use him too. I was hoping he would help me destroy Voldemort with inside information and maybe even access to the madman. I hadn't exactly been honest myself.

Still, I couldn't get past it. Draco was willing to see me dead for his own betterment – was this the person I loved?

I sighed and then someone knocked on the bathroom door. "Everything alright, mate?" I heard Ron ask from the other side.

"Yeah, fine," I called back to him. "Just give me a second."

"Okay," he said and I heard him walk back over to his bed.

He knew something was up with me. I'd seen him question Hermione after we got back to the common room, but I also saw her firmly shaking her head, refusing to answer his questions.

I didn't know what to tell him. I didn't want to lie, since we were only just getting our friendship back on track, but I wasn't sure how he would handle hearing the truth and I didn't want to risk it. The old Ron that I used to know would have tried to hex Draco for deceiving me, I wasn't sure what he would do now, and I wasn't ready to find out.

--

As opposed to what I had felt yesterday, today I hoped that Draco might spend another day in the Hospital Wing so I wouldn't have to see him. I needed some space, some time away from him to think, and to decide what I wanted to do.

I still loved him with all my heart, but right now I couldn't tell if it was stupid of me to love him so much. Should I be trying to push him out of my heart? Or should I be trying to find a way to be with him despite his previous desire to see me dead? Could I trust him now?

I shouldn't have been surprised when I saw him walk into the Great Hall for breakfast; fate seemed to hate me after all. In the instant I saw him, he saw me too, and it was as if the Great Hall and all the other students and teachers had melted away; it was just us two standing there, staring across the room at one another. We paused in our moment together, and, even though I could feel that natural pull I had encouraging me to go to him, all I could see was that twisted smile from my nightmares as he mocked me for loving him.

I turned away, breaking our connection and walked over to the Gryffindor table to join my old friends.

Later, when I looked up to the Slytherin table, searching for him in spite of everything, he was gone.

--

I knew I had two classes with Draco that day, and I honestly wasn't sure how I would get through them. We had been sitting together in most of these classes for months now, and I knew I couldn't sit there with him today. If I did and he didn't talk to me it would kill me, but if we sat together and he tried to talk to me, I wouldn't have anything to say to him, and it would kill both of us.

I wasn't ignorant to how much I was hurting him; I could see it on his face. He looked stoic, to the rest of the world, Draco felt nothing, but I knew better. In that moment we shared this morning in the Great Hall, his eyes showed me his pain, his longing, and his truth – how much he loved me.

I was a fool, I knew that, he loved me and I loved him; we should be together. I only wished it were that simple.

I had hoped to get to class before Draco so that I would be able to sit myself next to Hermione and not look at him when he came in, but it wasn't to be. Draco was early and already seated at our usual desk, I stared at him for a second, but he refused to look at me.

I knew I should sit with him, that I should go to him tell him I loved him and say that nothing in the world would make me happier than to marry him – and to a certain extent that was true – but I couldn't be sure his past wouldn't come up to bite us both in the future. If I married him, I wanted to say forever and I wanted to mean it.

I took up my seat with Hermione and even though he didn't turn around I felt like he was watching my every move.

Students filed into the classroom and Professor Binns floated through the wall and, without preamble, began his class in droning monotones. I stared at the back of Draco's head the whole time.

Divination later that day was no different, I sat with Ron, who had been giving me troubled looks all day, and stared at Draco.

I wanted him so much. I wanted to say yes to him so much, but I didn't know what it would mean if I did.

--

I have no idea how I managed to survive the day, but somehow I did. Hours slipped silently into each other and my heart cracked more with each passing second as I felt Draco slipping through my fingers. Yesterday I would have told you I had a solid grip on my relationship with Draco, that we could get through anything and that I would love him no matter what he did or had done. Now I wasn't so sure. I wondered if Lady Malfoy was right; everything is love when you're sixteen, everything is forever, and everything is pure and true and soul defining.

I sighed, staring at the stars up above me. I wondered which of the constellations my lover was named after, or if his constellation could even been seen from here.

I had retreated, as soon as I could, to the safety of the Quidditch Pitch. I cared not for the cold closing in around me, nor the darkness as it blanketed the sky. I just needed to be alone.

I had to decide what I would do about Draco tonight; I couldn't cope with another day like today and I wouldn't put him through that either.

I took a deep breath and tried to go through everything logically.

Draco's crimes against me were many; years of bullying, manipulation, lies, plots against me, and an affiliation with Lord Voldemort. However, I had already forgiven him for the bullying, and I had known he was keeping things from me … I just didn't think was keeping…_Death Eater, plots of my demise_…It hurt to think about.

"It's fucking freezing out here, Man," Ron exclaimed, making me jump with surprise. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Thinking," I shrugged. It was unexpected, but I actually found myself glad of his company. "Sit down, I'll cast us a warming charm."

Ron sat down on the grass beside me and I warmed us both with my wand. His presence made me feel less alone and not so lost.

"You don't have to tell me what's going on," he said to me quietly; the silence of the night wrapped around us both, giving his words that much more meaning. "Hermione told me I wasn't to ask you about it and I won't, I just want you to know that whatever reason you think you can talk to her and not me…well, you're wrong." I looked at him in surprise; I hadn't been expecting that from him. "I know you're having problems with Malfoy, but you don't have to worry that I won't understand 'cause you're gay or whatever, or 'cause it's Malfoy. I don't care about that stuff, I just want to be able to help, you know?"

I nodded; I felt a little guilty. I'd underestimated him again, assuming he wouldn't understand – the same reason I didn't confide in him about my sexuality. "I do need help," I said. "I can't think…."

"What's going on?" he asked. "Last time I saw you together you were deliriously happy with each other."

"He asked me to marry him," I said, because it was this that was at the forefront of my mind; I needed to answer him tomorrow and I didn't know what I would say.

It sounded like Ron choked a little on his own phlegm when I told him that. "Is he even allowed to?" he asked. Obviously Ron was more familiar with pureblood marriage rules than I was.

"Apparently his mother has consented to our marriage on the provision that I defeat Voldemort," I replied, still trying to understand it myself. "Draco thinks she still has some kind of agenda of her own, but he's not too worried about it just yet."

"Right," Ron stated, sounding like he was struggling to understand it himself. "So that's the problem, he proposed and you freaked because you've only been together for a week?"

"Well not really, there was a lot of lead up to the proposal," I said vaguely. "If he'd just asked me I probably would have agreed right away because I do want to marry him, I love him that much. But he confessed a few things to me before he asked me and … I dunno…."

"It's okay, you don't have to tell me," he sighed, sounding disappointed.

The night quieted and the air was still. Ron leaned back on his arms and stared up into the stars. I just sat with him for a few minutes, wondering if I should confess Draco's secrets, and mine, to him.

He hadn't given me any reason not to trust him since we'd rekindled our friendship – in truth he'd been nothing but supportive, so I decided to give him a chance. "Draco's a Death Eater," I said, and I saw him stiffen, but he didn't reply. "He was marked by Voldemort a few months ago when he turned sixteen. He's been hiding his mark from me, but he showed me last night."

Ron was silent for a moment. "A Death Eater?" It sounded like he didn't quite believe it either.

"Yes, but believe it or not, that's not what bothers me so much," I replied, sorting my thoughts out as I spoke. "I mean, I can see how he'd be led astray by his father and his entire upbringing. He would have grown up being told that was his future so it's not that surprising that when they wanted to Mark him, he let them."

"Yeah, I suppose," Ron shrugged, although I'm not sure if he believed it.

"I know he regrets it now, he's not loyal to Voldemort at all," I explained, and I knew as I said it aloud that it was true. I remembered clearly how desperately he explained to me that whatever I decided to do that he would always belong to me. "He's loyal to me, he wouldn't ever hurt me."

"Then what's the problem?" Ron asked me simply, and that question resounded through me: _What is the problem!?_

"The problem is that he _wanted _to hurt me not that long ago," I said, not sure that I really believed it anymore. Draco loved me now, wasn't that all that mattered? "He had planned to betray me, that's how this whole thing started. He was going to make me fall for him then hand me over to Voldemort."

Ron sighed heavily, his breath whooshing out of his lungs noisily in the evening quiet. "Harry, I don't like Malfoy that much, and I'm not sure that he won't hurt you eventually, but in the spirit of saying the right thing here, I think you need to remember that Malfoy is essentially an idiot." I frowned in confusion and nearly burst out laughing at the seriousness of Ron's tone. "Malfoy seems to be one of those idiots who decides on something before he knows anything about it – kind of like me – but the good thing about idiots like Malfoy and me is that, once we do start to figure things out, we realize what idiots we really are. Hermione is really understanding about how stupid I can be sometimes and she forgives me for a lot things. I would have thought she'd have chucked me by now, but I guess I'm just lucky."

I couldn't believe the logic that Ron was sharing with me. It was his own special way of thinking about it, but underneath his coarse wording was exactly what I needed to hear. "So you're saying that…?"

"Malfoy didn't know anything about you when he decided, in all his infinite wisdom, or lack thereof, to make you fall for him and then wrap you up like a present for You-Know-Who," he answered.

I smiled; I could feel my heart warming already. "Yeah, he said that," I told Ron, my dreamy lust for Draco filling me up again. "He said that he had fallen for me long before I'd even look at him."

"So, it sound like you weren't stupid enough to fall for his tricks anyway," Ron reasoned. "But when he was genuinely trying to get into your knickers…."

I laughed loudly with embarrassment because Ron was so spot on it was unnerving. Draco hadn't tricked me at all; he'd tried to trick me and failed. I was feeling light again, and grinning like an idiot.

"So, does this mean I'm going to have to get new Dress robes?" he asked me, and I smiled at him, not having any clue what he was talking about, but not caring in the least.

"What?" I asked him, chuckling.

"Well, were you planning to ask someone else to be your best man?"

I laughed again, and before I thought about how uncomfortable it might make him, I hugged him – and he hugged me back.

--

I was so excited about seeing Draco that morning that I could hardly relax enough to fall asleep. Ron kept groaning at me to shut up and stop tossing and turning in my bed, but I couldn't help myself. Eventually I did fall asleep, of course, but it had taken me so long to manage it that I slept in the next day and found myself late for breakfast.

I haphazardly pulled on my Hogwarts uniform and sprinted down the stairs with Ron, equally awkwardly dressed, running after me. I was so panicked about the possibility of missing Draco at breakfast that I wasn't concentrating on what I was doing or who was around me – a mistake I thought I'd learned from after bumping into Mike the other day.

Again, I bumped into someone, but this someone was the very someone I was looking for. "Draco!" I exclaimed when I saw it was him.

When he noticed that it was me he'd run into, his eyes went wide and he muttered an apology before turning on his heel and disappearing into the crowd of students exiting the Great Hall after breakfast. "Draco!" I called out to him, trying to push my way through the crowd. My heart tightened as I realized our reunion may not be as simple as agreeing to marry him. I knew I'd hurt him with our distance over the last day or so, but I thought he'd feel like me, just relieved to be back together. "Draco, I need to talk to you!" I called out when I saw his perfect blonde hair up in front of me.

"Don't worry about it, Harry," I heard him call back to me. "I understand."

But he didn't understand anything, and my insides constricted at the chance he might not let me explain. "Draco, wait!"

I was closer to him now, but he was still pushing passed people as he moved away from me. "No, its okay, you don't have to explain," he replied. "I get it. I wouldn't want me either."

My chest heaved at his words; was that really how he felt? "Draco, stop please!" I shouted.

"You don't have to do me any favours, Harry!" he shouted back to me; he sounded more hurt than angry.

"Then do me a favour!" I called to him. "_Please!_ Just stop for a second!"

To my relief he finally did. We were surrounded by students who had heard me pleading for him to stop, they were all keen to witness the next scandalous chapter in the Potter-Malfoy saga, and I couldn't care less if they were there or not.

I didn't know if Ron had followed me as I chased Draco, or if he had hung back and just let me go. I didn't care either way, my eyes and my heart were all for Draco.

Draco had turned to face me and the crowd parted as I walked up to him. His eyes were fixed to the floor, he wouldn't look at me, so I took his hand in mine to make sure I had his attention. I didn't want to have to repeat myself.

"Do me a favour, please, Draco," I said softly, as I dropped to both my knees in front of him, "and marry me?"

Author's Note: And now the tables are turned. What will Draco do? What will he say?


	23. Draco: Well Chosen

Author's Note: My turn again! Thanks to Laurel for her beta, and thanks to our many loyal readers and their patience through his process. We can see a light at the end of the tunnel.

The silence was too much for me to bear. I didn't even know how much I had wanted him to say yes to me until I asked the question aloud. Had I only been trying to distract him from my shameful secret? Not intentionally. Had I planned to blurt out a proposal like that? Definitely not. I loved Harry, that much was obvious, but being engaged to him that very moment hadn't honestly crossed my mind until the words came spilling from my mouth. And suddenly, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that marrying Harry was exactly what I wanted. Seeing him sitting there on the floor, refusing to meet my gaze, looking for all the world like he might lose his lunch any moment… well, it was too hurtful.

I thought maybe I hadn't explained myself well enough; perhaps there was more I could do to convince Harry of my feelings for him? "I know it's a lot and-" I began, unable to stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth even though Harry obviously wasn't interested in hearing them.

"Stop talking, Draco!" he insisted, his voice nearly shouting. "Please, just stop talking."

I was so shocked at his abruptness my mouth snapped shut mid-sentence and I looked away, trying to shield my eyes from him. Tears welled there, but I refused to let them fall. I should have been expecting him to react this way; how could he ever love a Death Eater? I deserved this. He was done with me and it was my fault alone. He didn't say anything else for a long while, and I continued to stare at a spot just past him so that I didn't have to see the regret in his eyes. I didn't want to see him doubting my feelings, my love for him, even though I knew I would do the same in his shoes.

I wished for him to speak, to say anything, the wait was killing me slowly from the inside. But I held my tongue because I thought – irrationally – that maybe if we sat in silence long enough, Harry would forgive me and tell me he still loved me. Maybe if he didn't speak I could go on pretending that nothing had happened and we were just as happy together as we'd ever been.

When he finally spoke, all my flowery thoughts were dashed to pieces, their petals withering before my very eyes. "I need to think," he announced flatly, pulling himself from his uncomfortable spot on the floor. I couldn't even cry as I watched him leave. I felt like a hollow shell, bereft of his love and gaze. Just outside the doorway, he turned, our eyes meeting for a brief moment, and I saw that it was over. The fact couldn't have been clearer.

Harry didn't love me anymore.

* * *

I don't know how I got through that night. I vaguely remember Pomfrey coming in to check on me, pumping me full of foul smelling potions, and running diagnostic spells over the parts of my body that had endured the most strain from the Cruciatus. I remember crying, sleeping, sobbing silently into my pillow, but my mind was numb, as if my brain had decided to take a nap and free me from thinking of what I'd just lost.

Apparently Dumbledore didn't get the memo about our break up, because shortly after Harry would have been finishing his dinner and heading up to Gryffindor Tower with his old friends, the ancient Headmaster decided to pay me a visit.

"I understand you've had quite a week, Mr. Malfoy," the man said as he pulled a chair up beside my bed.

"You could say that, Sir," I mumbled, trying not to think about any of the recent specifics. The man was probably only playing nice because Harry told him he was breaking things off with me for good. Everyone was nicer when they were getting their way.

"Well, Poppy tells me you're well enough to leave the hospital wing," he remarked and the news left me cold, filling my veins with icy water. I didn't want to go back to the Slytherin dorms, not even with a portion of its inhabitants expelled from the school. There were still students who hated me now more than ever; still plenty of people who would like to see me dead; Pansy had made perfectly clear.

"I'm not feeling quite up to my normal self just yet, Sir. Do you think I could stay here a while longer?" I asked sheepishly. It wasn't like me to feel so meek, but everything around me was shattering. I felt horrible and I no longer had my Harry to distract me from the real danger that lurked around every corner. Even after Pansy's visit I hadn't wasted much time thinking about what would happen when I was released from Hospital because I knew Harry would be by my side.

None of that was true anymore.

"Nonsense," he chuckled warmly and patted my forearm where my Dark Mark sat; I wondered if he knew. His eyes twinkled a brilliant blue as he smiled down at me and I realized they were filled with understanding. "I'm not sending you back to the Slytherin common room, that would be far too dangerous. I've arranged for other quarters for the rest of the term," he told me, without my having to utter a word about my fears.

I let my breath out in a massive whoosh, which Dumbledore seemed to find amusing. He smiled as he silently helped me gather my things and kept very close as he led me through the cold, stone halls of the castle. I had no idea where he was taking me, and I paid less attention than I should have considering it was going to be my residence for the next few months. We were somewhere on the fourth floor, when Dumbledore stopped and asked me to take note of a tapestry on the wall; it depicted a hill with a single, blooming tree at the top.

He stepped up to it, plucked a flower from the tree and tucked it into the folds of his robes before stepping forward as if he'd step through the wall. He did of course, and I shouldn't have been surprised to see it, but I just hadn't expected a secret room to be hidden behind that painting. I copied his actions and, once the soft, pink flower was pinned to my robes, I stepped through the wall and into a nicely furnished suite.

It had everything my common room and dorm had and more. There was a fireplace, a sitting room, shelves crammed with books. I had my own bath and a cozy bedroom that I didn't have to share. It was a shame that it took nearly dying to get such accommodations, and it was even worse when I thought how handy these rooms would have been for Harry and I, but I had to stop pining over a life that was behind me. Harry had left. He'd made his choice and I needed to move on, I couldn't continue to let my life revolve around him. I realized that it had only been hours since he'd walked out on me, but it felt like I had been alone for several lifetimes already.

"I hope you find the décor acceptable," Dumbledore was saying, and I assumed it was his idea of humor, because I only then noticed the predominant colors in the room were red and gold. I couldn't bring myself to care aside from the constant reminder of Harry, but it wasn't as if I would be able to avoid reminders of him now. How did I botch things up so badly?

"It's more than adequate, Sir," I told him quietly, as I let my bag fall to the ground beside me. My things had already been brought up from the Slytherin dorms, my heavy, ebony trunk sitting perfectly at the end of my bed. It even looked as though my textbooks had been mingled into the shelves. I sighed, and sat down in the nearest chair, my head in my hands. "Thank you, Sir," I muttered, figuring he would show himself out.

Instead, I felt a tight grip on my shoulder. "Mr. Malfoy," he began, but I cringed at the moniker.

"Please, Sir. Mr. Malfoy is my father. I'm just Draco," I told him.

"Draco, then," he amended and came to sit across from me. "Is there something troubling you?"

I had to laugh; it was the only sound that would bubble to the surface. I was so much more than troubled. "I've made a mess of everything, Headmaster," I blurted, taking another queue from Harry – not that it had worked out for me well before. "I don't want to be a Death Eater, I don't want to be a Malfoy - Hell, I don't even want to be a Slytherin anymore if it means I lose Harry."

"Have you lost Harry?" he asked, his fluffy, gray eyebrow lifted in curiosity.

"I probably never had him, really," I whispered to myself, worrying at the edge of my robes with an unkempt fingernail. I'd never felt so lost in all my life. I didn't feel like me without Harry. When had that happened? When had 'me' turned into 'us', and how long would it take change back? How long would I have to go on wondering where my other half had gone? "I'd been keeping him in the dark about so much, and I told him everything today, Sir."

"Everything?" he asked, and I didn't think the eyebrow could have gone higher, but somehow the old man managed it.

I pulled up my sleeve, showing him the hideous mark that burned beneath, and I nodded. "Yes, everything."

"And I assume Harry left rather quickly after that?" Dumbledore reasoned, and again I nodded. He returned my injured gaze with a thoughtful one of his own. "Harry has a tendency to need to work things out on his own," the man explained. "He's always been independent, even before I invited him back to our school. He never relied on his relatives for anything he didn't have to, and the same was true for his formative years here. He never comes to me when he's in danger, and he rarely answers me with much truth when I ask him what's on his mind. He leans upon Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley the most, but only when he absolutely must. He does not trust easily, Draco."

"So, I've completely blown it, because I've now shown him that he can't trust me," I sighed, choking on my own words.

"Well, I cannot say what Harry's heart will decide, but if he loves you, he will give you a chance, Draco. Harry is incapable of abandoning the people that he loves. It's in his very make up not to deny his heart, so I wouldn't worry about it too much. More than likely, Harry will come to you tomorrow," Dumbledore assured me, and I felt heartened by his words. It was funny how I'd spent my life thinking the man was a crackpot simply because of my ignorant father, and now here I was, clinging to his every word, hoping to Merlin they were true.

The old wizard smiled at me, and then got up, headed for the door, but I stopped him before he reached it. "Professor?" I asked, swallowing thickly. He turned back and leveled me with a sterner gaze than before. "What would I have to do to change sides in this war, Sir?"

Those eyes sparkled once more, and the corner of the man's mouth lifted slightly. "It sounds like you've already changed sides, Draco," he answered cryptically and left the room through a wall, which hung a portrait of the same lonely tree on that small hill, only barren.

He left me alone to settle in my new rooms, wishing Harry were snuggled up with me in bed as I drifted off to sleep and prayed to Merlin that tomorrow would bring my lover back into my arms.

* * *

When I woke the next morning, I felt a moment of disorientation as I opened my eyes and didn't immediately recognize my surroundings. It took a second, but eventually the events of the day before rushed back to me and I remembered that I was now in danger of my life and reaping no benefits for it whatsoever. If the old Headmaster were right though, perhaps Harry would come around today and at the very least give me a chance to convince him that I loved him more than my own life. Although, I couldn't help but think that if I hadn't already proven that to the Gryffindor, there wasn't anything that would convince him.

I rushed to get ready, hoping that I could pull Harry aside at breakfast and plead my case. I was worried that if I waited too long, Granger and Weasley would take my place at his side and he'd figure out that he no longer needed me. It was bad enough that he would have had all of last night alone with them so that they could twist me into a monster in Harry's eyes, but then, they really wouldn't need much help with that. I did a fine job of portraying the villain in me without any outside assistance needed.

By the time I was striding downstairs toward the Great Hall I was wearing perfectly pressed robes and looking my normal, healthy self. No traces of the effects from the Cruciatus lingered for anyone to see, but I still felt the odd twinge as I walked, as if my muscles hadn't quite detangled from the pain it had been put through a few days before. I hoped that would go away, but at least I wasn't the deathly pale and dying boy of last week.

It was important to try and maintain any pretenses of power I had left. Even though the Slytherins could no longer hurt me while I slept, there were still corridors I could be abducted from, and other places people could get to me. More importantly than all of that though, was to make sure my appearance affected Harry as much as I could make it. It might have been a manipulation of sorts, but it was a subtle one, used only to remind him of who he was leaving. Not the Slytherin prat he'd grown up around, but the loving boyfriend whose kisses made him shiver.

Besides, who didn't want to look there best when faced with the possibility of crippling rejection?

I saw him straight away, his black mop of hair more disheveled than usual, as he walked morosely into the Hall ahead of me. He turned, as if I'd called his name and for a moment that was all too brief, his emerald eyes locked onto mine. Dumbledore's words flowed through my mind like water 'I cannot say what Harry's heart will decide, but if he loves you, he will give you a chance, Draco', and I waited there, hoping that Harry truly loved me and would know that I loved him too.

He took a step toward me, his gaze still boring into mine and then he stopped, and as quickly as my dreams seemed tangible, they were dashed to the ground when Harry sharply tore his eyes from mine and walked away, moving steadily to sit with Granger and Weasley. My entire body shook with the unheeded urge to scream for him to turn back around, to fall to my knees and beg for forgiveness, but I swallowed down my nonsensical thoughts and lifted my head before turning on my heel and quickly fleeing the hall altogether.

I wasn't ready to return to the Slytherin table. I wasn't ready to face an angry mob after being to thoroughly denounced by the only person I cared for. Instead I wandered the halls, my heart numb as I wondered what I would have to do to get Harry back, or if I even should. Perhaps this was the best result for Harry and I both. Neither of us would be in danger any longer, or at least, no more danger than we were already in. Harry could find someone who was worthy of his large heart and perhaps this would give me a chance to prove my merit to the Order without being simply Harry Potter's boyfriend; to show them I was capable of fighting for the right side without being attached to his hip and without his Gryffindorian guidance.

I could be a reformed villain without his love, because the single greatest weapon he wielded, the one that made him more powerful than Voldemort, it had already left its mark on me.

* * *

My feet found their way to all of my classes that day, and at each turn I was met with cold indifference by the boy I wanted so desperately. By the end of the day I knew I stood no chance with him. Shoulder after shoulder had been icy and uncaring, his gaze never even deigning to grace my direction until it all became too much to bear. Sometimes it seemed as though I could feel that emerald gaze upon me, but the moment I looked up to meet it, those eyes would be engages elsewhere. So, I kept my own eyes on my work, careful not to spill a drop of ink as I scribbled notes in History of Magic, listening intently to every droning word Binns uttered, in hopes to distract myself from the urge to turn around and look at Harry.

I timed every spell in Transfiguration perfectly, even though the entire time I berated myself for being so foolish. Had I honestly thought that Harry Potter, of all people, would want to spend the rest of his life with _me_? There was nothing of worth that I could offer him in exchange for his vow. He already had money and power and fame, the things that most of my line married for. He already had a pureblood name and a family who loved him and friends who looked after him. The only thing I could offer him was my heart, and it was nowhere near pure enough for the likes of Harry James Potter.

* * *

I skipped dinner that night, and my stomach growled at me in protest, but I ignored it just as thoroughly as I ignored the screams that what I was doing was wrong. I stood in the middle of my new rooms, staring down at a ring I hadn't thought about in a long time. The Malfoy family crest stared back up at me, reminding me of the people I betrayed to capture a love I wasn't capable of holding on to. The onyx stone mirrored my heart, solid, black, but polished on the surface so that no one would notice.

The fact that it graced my finger on the night I was attacked was probably the only thing that kept me alive. The powerful magicks woven through the ring were strong indeed, but that wasn't what had brought my attention back to it after having ignored it for weeks. No, it was the other power it held that intrigued me now, the one that could easily transport me to the Manor with a single, simple incantation.

It wouldn't take any effort at all to slip into the Manor, but remaining undetected was another story. I needed to know exactly where the ring would transport me in order to make an effective plan. I had to have assurance that I could sneak up on the monster that had ruined my life and dispatch of him once and for all. I wanted the Dark Mark to fade from my arm, even if it was disappearing from the pale skin of my corpse.

"_Illic est haud locus amo domus," _I whispered, as I turned the ring on my finger three times, and dropped into a fighting stance with my wand drawn. This trip was only to see what would happen if I used the ring as my way into the Manor, but I wouldn't be foolish and tempt fate by being unprepared. For all I knew, the ring would transport me into the dungeons, or the main hall where the Dark Lord conducted most of his business.

Thankfully, my feet landed firmly of the ornate rug in my father's private study. So far as I knew, Lucius hadn't allowed the Dark Lord access, or even knowledge of this room. The entrance was hidden carefully by a tapestry depicting the battle of the Elvin Plains and masked with cloaking spells that would deter anyone - myself included - from even inspecting the wall that held it. Moreover, the secret door could only be accessed by password, which I didn't know. Still, now that I was inside, I should be able to slip out undetected and make my way to the chambers where the Dark Lord slept – because he had to sleep sometime. Mother should be able to help me there, though it would pose a grave danger to her should I fail, I didn't think she would refuse me the information after her brazen speech the day before. I sneered at the thought. Wouldn't she be pleased to learn that her son was going to eliminate her foe and she wouldn't even have to keep her end of the bargain?

I almost hoped that my killing Voldemort would take me out as well, because I couldn't imagine what my life would turn into once the creature was dead. Yesterday I could clearly envision waking up in Harry's arms every morning and making love to him every day before we even had tea. Before I got involved with Harry, I was sure my life would be at my father's side, wearing the Mark of my Lord as I gained power in his glory.

But there was nothing glorified about killing Muggles, no matter how different they were, and the moment I realized that I was in love with Harry, I knew that path was lost to me. I was no longer a Malfoy, even after being forsaken by my lover. I didn't know who I was, or where I fit in, and I was frightened of what that meant. Never had I been without a plan, never had I been without a scheme, and it seemed this mission to kill the Dark Lord might just be my last.

With a resolute nod, I formed my plan. I would speak with Mother, and at the very next opportunity I would sneak back here and murder the man who had murdered my every chance at a happy life. There were only a few pieces of the puzzle left to be placed and I would finalize it all by week's end. My mind made up, I closed my eyes, spun on my heel and Apparated to the Hogwarts gates before making the long trek back inside. Thankfully, I went without drawing any attention to myself, but I did see a familiar pair making their way back into the castle as well.

From a distance I watched as Harry and Ron walked silently toward the courtyard, a smile playing over my ex's face. Any doubts I had carried about the logic or necessity of my plan faded away in that moment as I watched my Gryffindor grin at his best friend. Harry would be happy again, and he would get to lead a normal life with a sweet bloke who loved him and could give him all that his heart desired. The least I could do for him after all the pain I'd caused was to take care of the last shadow that clouded over his life. I could take his burden away and leave him with the long life he craved and deserved.

I would do this for Harry.

* * *

The next morning I overslept because my mind wouldn't stop wandering to Harry's face. I would drift off with thoughts of him wrapped around me, his warm lips lingering against mine, and then I would wake up alone and freezing in my empty bed. I wished I could be with him one last time before the end, but I knew the very idea of it was futile. Harry rightfully wanted nothing to do with me.

I slipped out of my room and wandered toward the smell of bacon and pancakes that wafted through the halls. I could no longer deny my empty stomach, no matter how hard it would be to bear the site of Harry ignoring me again. If things worked my way, I'd only have to deal with his avoidance for the next week, and then fate would decide.

I suppose I should have been thankful that Harry had chosen to pretend as though I didn't exist instead of 'doing the right thing' and pulling me aside to tell me flatly that it was over. I don't think my fractured heart could take a blow that severe. That was the only thought running through my mind as my body collided with the clumsy Gryffindor.

"Draco!" he shouted, his eyes going wide.

I knew I looked equally shocked at coming upon him so suddenly and I muttered a brief apology before I whipped around and practically threw myself into the center of some chattering Fourth years on their way from breakfast. I dipped and dove between them as if dodging Bludgers on the way to the Snitch, all to try and escape my ex.

I figured he would go back to his careful avoidance once faced with my retreating back, but I wasn't so lucky. He shouted my name over and over until I could hear him drawing too close for comfort. "Draco, I need to talk to you!" he yelled, almost on my tail.

The shouting had drawn everyone's attention and revealed my position, so I was forced to answer. "Don't worry about it, Harry," I told him firmly. "I understand."

He'd found comfort and closure in his friends, and I was glad of that. I couldn't stand to think of him hurting over something I did or said, but I didn't need to hear the finality in Harry's voice when he told me it was over for good. Without it, I could perhaps go on pretending that I stood a chance at winning him back if my mission succeeded and I lived through it.

I spared a single glance in his direction, and seeing him scrunch up his nose in frustration, I used the distraction to quicken my pace.

"Draco, wait!" he called again, as he caught up with me.

My calm, yet fast stride was quickly turning into a struggle to push through the crowd, not even bothering to watch my step as I shoved people out of my way in my haste to get away from Harry. It didn't seem to matter though, no matter how many people stood between us, Harry was persistent in his chase. "No, its okay, you don't have to explain," I bit out when it didn't seem I could lose him. "I get it. I wouldn't want me either."

"Draco, stop please!" he shouted again and I nearly screamed with frustration. Why didn't he get it? I already knew it was over, why couldn't he just leave well enough alone?

"You don't have to do me any favours, Harry!" I shouted back at him, but I couldn't look at him, even though I felt him at my back. A hundred pairs of eyes were staring at us, but I could only feel Harry's. I hated that I could pick him out of a crowd without even looking, that his scent or the sound of his footsteps was all I needed to know that he was there. It stabbed my already broken heart to know that those feelings might not ever change, that I might spend the rest of my life waiting for him to come back to me.

"Then do me a favour!" he retorted. "_Please!_ Just stop for a second!"

And in the end, I couldn't deny my Harry anything, not even now, when he was no longer mine. I stopped, and the crowd around us seemed to buzz with anticipation. I wanted to scream at all of them to mind their own fucking business, but my voice had abandoned me at the sight of my former lover walking toward me through a parted sea of students.

My gaze flicked quickly to the floor, knowing that those emerald eyes would be my undoing were I to look into them as he broke up with me for good. It took me a moment to register that he'd taken my hand and that it wasn't just another dream, and it took even longer to notice he'd fallen to his knees in front of me, preventing me from effectively avoiding those piercing eyes any longer.

"Do me a favour, please, Draco," he said softly, and captured my full attention, "and marry me?"

I blinked, probably the only sign I gave the waiting crowd that I had even heard the words, but it was all I could do in that moment.

Here was the man of my dreams, my Gryffindor, proposing to me in front of the entire school as if he couldn't care less what people thought. I swallowed thickly and blinked again, my mouth was too dry to answer him properly. "No ring," I pointed out, when I couldn't think of anything else to say. "You don't have a ring."

A few of the students snickered behind me but I paid them no attention. It was just Harry and I in that corridor now.

"I seem to recall that you didn't have a ring when you asked either," he mentioned, and if I hadn't known any better, I would have said that Harry Potter looked scared.

"Please, get up," I pleaded, and his expression shifted from tense humor, to honest worry. I squeezed his hand reassuringly and pulled him away from the crowd of vultures, all waiting to pick Harry's life apart. They could have me, but I hated that they swooped over Harry like he was some piece of carrion. I kept moving, clutching his hand in mine so tightly that I thought we might fuse together, until I was standing in front of my new room. I lifted a flower from the tree, pinned it to my robes and pulled Harry in after me, all without a word. "Why are you doing this?" I demanded when I was sure we were alone.

He spared a moment to glance around, confusion written clearly on his face, before turning that smoldering gaze back on me. "I want to marry you," he replied firmly, and I could almost believe him. "I love you."

The words flowed over me, stinging in some places and warming others as they worked their way into my heart. I never thought I'd hear those words from his mouth again. But I'd made up my mind, hadn't I? I was going to rid Harry's life of the biggest threat to it, and wash the Dark Lord's sins away from the world. Should I be selfish and damn the plan, pull Harry into my arms and hold onto him forever? Or should I tell Harry no, kill Voldemort and do my best to survive and come back for him? Then there was always the Slytherin option to do both, spend one blissful week with my boyfriend and then sneak away to kill Voldemort without him knowing.

But I was trying to think less like a Slytherin. I was trying to be true for Harry. I wanted to be the man he deserved.

My mind was so riddled with all the different options, that when I opened my mouth to answer him, even I didn't know what would come out.

"Harry, I-"

* * *

Author's Note: The incantation Draco uses is 'There's no place like home' in Latin. I thought it would be funny.


	24. Harry: No Ring

Author's Note: Since I've been a right prat, Laurel is here to fix it and give you the answer you've all been waiting for.

Chapter 24 Harry – No ring

He hesitated.

I suppose I hadn't really thought about what it meant until now, but I had just asked my boyfriend to spend the rest of his life with me. My throat constricted and my heart was beating wildly in my chest. I hadn't realized just _how much _I wanted this until I was down on my knees with him staring down at me silently … hesitating.

_Oh God. Say yes. Please say yes. _

"No ring," he said after what felt like an entire lifetime. "You don't have a ring."

I felt my whole body flush with panic; I was sure he had wanted this too. I figured it was a fair assumption since he'd asked me first! Was it possible he had changed his mind in just over twenty-four hours? "I seem to recall that you didn't have a ring when you asked either," I replied, reminding him that he had already proposed to me.

"Please get up," he requested softly, almost pleading with me. I was suddenly acutely aware of our audience and quickly regretful that I hadn't asked him in private; I didn't care, but I was starting to think he might.

I got quickly to my feet, desperately worried about what he was going to say to me, and, with a quick squeeze of my hand, he was leading me out of the crowd. My mind was whirring so quickly I hardly noticed where he was taking me. My anxiety heightened with each passing second of his silence and I wondered if this was what it had been like for Draco yesterday. Oddly, I was experiencing a similar kind of fear to what I had felt the night Draco had nearly died; fear I was losing him, fear that I would have to live my life without him. I thought if he didn't answer me soon I would choke on the lump I felt sitting in my throat.

We arrived at a strange looking portrait of a lonely tree, and without a word of explanation, he took a leaf from the tree, pinned it to his robes and stepped through the painting, pulling me in behind him.

I hardly had a chance to adjust to my new surroundings when he finally spoke, demanding to know my motives. "Why are you doing this?" he asked me.

I glanced around, but didn't take anything in. "I want to marry you," I told him firmly; I'd never been so sure of anything in my whole life. "I love you."

His mouth fell open like he didn't know what to say, like I'd never told him I loved him before and he was shocked to hear it. But he knew I loved him … didn't he? "Harry, I-" Draco hesitated again, and it was like another stab to the chest.

"Have you changed your mind?" I asked him, searching his evasive eyes for an answer.

He looked up at me immediately. "No!" he said quickly, and my knees nearly buckled in relief. "I thought you hated me," he added quietly.

I felt like he'd slapped me right across the face and for a moment I was speechless. "What?" I gaped. "I could _never _hate you!"

"But, Harry, I'm everything you hate!" he insisted, like he was trying to convince me that I _didn't _want to spend my life with him.

"That's not even _close _to being remotely true!" I snapped angrily. Obviously the time I had taken agonizing over his proposal had done more damage than I thought.

"I'm a Death Eater, Harry," he replied, focusing his gaze on the floor again.

"You are my _boyfriend_," I told him sharply; this was not a point I would be moved on, "and that psychopath will pay with his life for touching you."

Draco's fiery gaze locked on to mine and the passion I saw in those stormy grey orbs went straight to my groin. "I love you," he rasped, and I was on him in a shot.

It hadn't been much more than a day, but it felt like a lifetime since I'd touched him. My tongue battled his fiercely as though his kisses were my life's breath and I'd been deprived of air for all our time apart. My hands roamed his body and if I could have climbed into him I would have, that was how close I neededto be to him. He roughly tugged at my robes, pulling at them as though he wanted them to just fall off me. They didn't of course, and by the way he pressed his clothed erection up against mine, I guessed he didn't want to waste the time undoing them properly.

He pushed me backwards towards the next room, but I was too wrapped up in him to care anything about where we were. He directed me slightly and eventually my knees hit the side of a bed and soon I was on my back with Draco sucking at my neck as he straddled my hips, grinding himself into me. I moaned with pleasure, short of breath, only wishing we had the time to fuck properly. I was eagerto feel Draco inside me, something we hadn't done yet. "Ungh, _Draco,_" I gasped as my excitement increased. I clung to him tightly, and thrust up into him with as much fervor as he had for me. All too soon I felt my climax taking over me, running through my every nerve, leaving me shuddering under him. The few movements it took for him to follow me carried my satisfied buzz on longer than usual, and I sighed in relief as he collapsed on top of me.

As my heart rate slowed, the reality of our conversation came flooding back to me and I felt guilty about all I had put him through yesterday. We just laid together for a while, not moving, his weight felt comfortable on me. I knew we should have been in Defence Against the Dark Arts already, but we had too much to talk about; besides, we were late already, what would it matter if we didn't show up.

"It was a lot to take in," I whispered eventually, and I felt him stiffen as I spoke. "I'm sorry I avoided you like that yesterday, I just needed some space to think."

"I understand," he murmured into my neck, but I could still hear his hurt.

"You should know that I thought I might be able to use you too at the start," I confessed; it wasn't as heavy as his own confession, but I thought it only fair to be up front with him since he'd been so open with me. "I thought maybe you would be able to help me get close to Voldemort so I could kill him and be done with it."

"That's why you became friends with me?" he asked incredulously, finally raising his head to look at me fully.

"Yes, but its not why I fell in love with you," I whispered. He sighed, and fell back against me.

"Did you mean it?" he asked me quietly. "You want to bond with me?"

My heart thumped in my chest, but I couldn't stop the smile that appeared on my face. I couldn't believe that I'd ever been unsure about what I wanted with him. I loved Draco more than life, more than I ever could have imagined, and if he still doubted that then obviously I hadn't told him enough. "Draco, I've loved you for longer than I even know," I said, wrapping my arms around his waist and holding him close to me. "Every day I think I couldn't possibly love you any more than I already do, but somehow I do. Every day you are more beautiful, more incredible, more perfect, than you were yesterday; I have no idea how it happens, but I just know it does. I don't think I could spend my life with anyone else even if I wanted to, which, you'll be glad to know, I don't."

His eyelashes blinked delicately at me as I spoke, but he didn't reply.

"I know I don't have a ring for you," I continued, "but I don't think I have the patience to wait until I have an opportunity to buy one."

"You don't have to get me a ring, I don't know why I said that," he admitted, his cheeks slightly flushed. "I was just shocked and fishing for something to say."

"It doesn't matter," I smiled softly at him. "Say you'll marry me and I'll get you the best ring I can find."

"I don't care if you tie a string around my finger. If it's the ring you give to me for our engagement it would be the best," he assured me, sealing his promise with a kiss, and something fluttered in my chest.

"Is that a yes, then?" I asked him nervously, and he grinned at me.

"Yes, that's a yes."

--

Draco was waiting for me by the open doors to the Great Hall when I arrived for lunch. My eyes flicked away from him to an empty space on the stone floor, to any other person the space was meaningless, but to me that space was now sacred – a few hours before I'd been kneeling in that very spot, determined to change my life forever.

I walked over to my fiancé and kissed him briefly. My fiancé – I loved the sound of that. "Hey," I purred to him softly, my greeting holding so much more meaning than any dictionary could give it.

"Hey," he replied with a knowing smile. "I keep looking at that spot too. Doesn't quite feel real, does it?" I blushed as I realized I'd been caught being a sentimental Gryffindor, but I knew he loved me for it. "So, detention?" he questioned me.

The Hogwarts rumour mill had always worked very efficiently, and this morning was no exception. Before the end of the first class every student and every professor in Hogwarts knew that I had publicly proposed to Draco Malfoy; our dramatic and prolonged disappearance only fuelled the rumours. Professor McGonagall was quick to swoop on me when Draco and I reappeared and Snape wasn't far behind, dragging a reluctant Draco along behind him.

"Nah," I shrugged nonchalantly. "She took a few house points because I'd broken the rules, but mostly she wanted to make sure I wasn't completely out of my mind."

It felt like McGonagall had talked at me for years, and it was all I could do not to storm out of her office at times. I did appreciate that she was trying to make sure I didn't make a mistake, but she wouldn't listen to me when I tried to explain that being with Draco was the only thing I was sure about right now. She had subtly tried to remind me that the Malfoys were known supporters of Voldemort's regime, that we'd hated each other not too many months ago, and that, if nothing else, we were both only sixteen and marriage was supposed to be a lifetime commitment. I felt a little bad when I thought about how I'd left her – she did look very hurt when I reminded her rather sharply that my lifetime was unlikely to be very long. It made me feel worse to think about the potential truth to that statement.

"Yeah, I'll bet she did," Draco scoffed bitterly, and I ran my hand down the length of his pale arm before twisting my fingers into his.

"I told her I was out of my mind in love with you," I teased him, "and that I wouldn't have it any other way."

He chuckled lightly, and I could see happiness brighten his eyes – I loved that I did that to him. "That's incredibly saccharine, Harry," he quipped.

"And you love it," I purred into his ear, making him shiver. I pulled back and took in his contented expression. "What about you then? Did you cop a detention?" I asked him eventually.

He shrugged. "Sort of," he replied. "Officially, yes, but unofficially Severus will tutor me in advanced potions. He lets me help with whatever he's working on, whereas you, I'd imagine, would have had to scrub out all the cauldrons without your wand."

I laughed. "Yeah, I've done that before!" I slipped my arm around him and we walked together into the Great Hall to have lunch; my stomach growled at me unhappily and I remembered I'd never actually gotten to breakfast this morning. "That's completely unfair you know," I complained. "I always knew he favoured you."

As we approached Gryffindor table I could feel the eyes of nearly every person in the Hall follow us; I pulled Draco closer to me as if to protect him from their stares – I was well used to gawking and gossip by now, having been subjected to it since my first day in this stalwart castle, but Draco tended to keep a much lower profile.

"You two look as though you've worked things out," Hermione commented as we sat down opposite she and Ron.

I glanced over at Draco who smirked at me as if to say 'they're _your _friends', and I laughed. "We have, yes," I nodded, but I didn't say anything else. Hermione looked as though she were about to pop with anticipation, chewing at her bottom lip and wringing her hands together. I smiled innocently at her as if I couldn't possibly imagine what she wanted to know.

"So, will I have to go out and buy those new dress robes?" Ron asked me, trying not to smile. I felt like the whole table leaned in to hear my answer; I squeezed Draco's hand.

"You'd better," I replied casually. "The ones you wore to the Yule Ball are pretty terrible."

"Oh Merlin, yes!" Draco exclaimed as if he'd just remembered what Ron's current dress robes looked like. "He won't be invited if he doesn't get new robes!"

The whole school erupted into excited chatter and I burst out laughing. I supposed with my public proposal it was unrealistic to think we'd keep anything to ourselves, but if we _had _been trying to be discrete we certainly couldn't anymore. "I love you so much," I whispered to my future husband, and I kissed him lightly on the cheek before turning my attention to the delicious array of food in front of me.

--

The afternoon passed without incident. Draco and I attended our classes dutifully, although it was often hard to concentrate when his hand found its way under the desk and up the inside of my thigh. He only laughed when I told him off for it; I don't think I hid very well just how much I loved his attention.

As much as I wished the day wouldn't end and I could feel this blissfully happy forever, it wasn't to be. "Do you _have _to go?" I whined at him, as we stood outside Snape's door. "If it's not really a detention, why do you have to do it?"

"He's expecting me, Harry," Draco reminded me. "He's my Godfather, I can't just not show up."

I pouted. "So go in and tell him you have to skip his lesson to make love to your new fiancé," I replied, running my fingers down his chest suggestively. I knew I was being childish, but I was still on a high from our engagement and I didn't want to part from him so soon.

"I will make love to you," he whispered to me, his lips lingering over mine as though he were about to steal a kiss, "_repeatedly_." I closed my eyes, feeling my desire for him burn brightly, his warm breath washed over me and I parted my lips, ready to accept his intoxicating kisses. "But not tonight," he finished, stepping back from me and turning to Snape's office door.

My mouth fell open in complete surprise, and my desire washed away in crushing disappointment. "Now that's just _mean_," I whined petulantly. "You're nothing but a cock tease, Draco Malfoy."

He turned back and winked at me as he opened the door. "I'm a Slytherin, Harry," he said pointedly. "You shouldn't forget that."

I chuckled quietly under my breath as I watched him disappear behind the door, before I turned to make my way up to Gryffindor Tower – I was going to spend the evening with Ron and Hermione tonight, we had some time to make up for.

As I walked the mostly deserted corridors of Hogwarts I thought about what Draco had said and I realized he was only partly right. He might be a Slytherin, he might be a Malfoy, and once upon a time he might have been a Death Eater, but I knew that none of those things defined him. They were part of him, certainly, but he would always be his own person, and that was something _he _shouldn't forget.

--

I watched the delicate blossoms sway precariously on the otherwise bare limbs of the tree – they looked as though the light breeze in the portrait could pluck them right off the branches and carry them into another world, another painting. More determined than they looked, the blossoms clung to their life's source, refusing to bend to natures will. Inwardly, I was strangely proud of them, however determinedly they defied not only the wind but me as well.

I had arrived several minutes earlier at Draco's new room and, when I reached in to pluck off a blossom in order to enter, my hand met with the solid frame of the stone wall behind the picture. I had watch Draco reach right into the painting to the tree, but for some reason I could not manage it.

I tapped my foot on the concrete, waiting impatiently for Draco to emerge, and as if he heard my impatient sighs, he did. "Good morning," he mused. "What are you doing waiting out here? I told you to just come in."

"I would have if your damned portrait would have let me!" I huffed, and he gathered me up into his arms, soothing my discontent with a feverish morning kiss.

Draco's arms wrapped around my lower back pulling me up and into him, and it was all I could do to steady myself with my hands on his shoulders as he pulled me on to my toes. His mouth sucked lightly on my upper lip, and I melted into him, opening my mouth eagerly to caress his invading tongue with my own. Metaphorical butterflies flapped frantically in my stomach making me queasy as he dominated me with dizzying force and I loved every moment of it.

I stumbled as he released me, my knees weak from his onslaught, and he had to steady me again. "I love how you react to me," he purred, and I flushed with embarrassment.

"Oh shut up," I teased, pouting at him. "You feel the same way about me, admit it!"

"That I do," he replied, his voice rising suggestively from deep within his chest. "Let's go back in my room and I'll show you exactly how I feel about you."

He wiggled his eyebrows teasingly, and I laughed. "You know we can't," I reminded him as I unwound myself from his embrace. "We've already gotten into trouble for skipping class, besides I'll be able to stay with you all night tonight and we can take all the time we need."

"All night?" he joked, taking my hand as we walked down to breakfast. "Sounds like I'm going to need to conserve my energy today."

As we entered the Great Hall I noticed that almost every head turned to watch us, whispering to each other as we passed them. I spotted Mike for the first time since I'd run into him a few days before, and he looked as deeply hurt now as he had the day I left him for Draco – as I watched him I saw a Fifth year Ravenclaw boy glare at me and take Mike's hand possessively.

"I see your ex has a new boyfriend," Draco commented, sounding almost unsure of himself, and I wanted to dispel that uncertainty immediately.

"Yeah, it looks like it," I nodded. "I'm glad he does. I hope his new boyfriend will be able to make him as happy as you make me, the way I never could have."

Draco nodded and smiled demurely at me. "Looks like we're still big news," he observed, glancing quickly at all the chattering students pointing at us and whispering behind their hands.

"Yeah, you'd think people would be over it by now."

We took our seats opposite Hermione and Ron as we had done last night at dinner; I could see Draco becoming a regular at the Gryffindor table now that his position in Slytherin had been compromised.

"Yes, well, I expect it will continue unless you learn to be a bit more _discrete_, Harry," Hermione interrupted, scolding me for the first time since we'd made up, and it couldn't have made me happier.

"What do you mean?" I asked, trying not to smile as I knew it would only upset her more. She threw me her regular morning copy of the _Daily Prophet_ and I nearly fell off my chair. "Merlin's beard," I breathed and Draco leaned over me to see for himself, expressing a similar concern to mine.

"Oh fuck," he gasped, snatching the paper away from me.

There, on the front page, was a photograph of me on my knees in front of Draco, who looked down at me with uncertainty. Above the picture the headline read, _Potter: Gay and engaged to wealthy pureblood heir._ The article went on to speculate about my motivations for marrying so young, suggesting that my parents had left me next to nothing in gold and that I must be marrying Draco for his family money. It appeared that several students had told the reporter – another Rita Skeeter in the making it seemed – that Draco and I had only been together for a few days – annoying true – and before that we'd hated each other, so his wealth and social status as a pureblood could be my only motivation. The closing line warned Draco away from me, or to at least make sure that if we divorced I wouldn't be entitled to a single Knut from his vault.

"I'm going to kill her," he hissed. "Stupid bitch! I've never liked her; she's just pissed that it won't be _her _marrying into my vault!"

"What?" I gasped, completely shocked at Draco's words. "You know her?"

"Yeah, her family has been trying to worm their way into my father's good books for years, always pushing their daughter – this _Rosette _girl – on to me," he growled angrily, his eyes searching the room. "She's like four years older than me, but she has siblings still at Hogwarts, I bet it was one of them who gave her the picture."

"It's alright, Baby," I tried to sooth him, rubbing the tops of his thighs. "It's not like we were really able to keep it a secret anyway. Stupidly, I didn't even think about who was around, I was just so desperate for you to stop and listen to me. I'm so sorry, I should have waited until it was just us, or I should have just said yes when you asked me the first time."

"You're right, there's nothing we could have done about it," he replied, this time trying to calm me. "It doesn't matter anyway, I don't care who knows! I'm just angry that she could suggest you were trying to exploit me for my money."

I smiled and kissed him briefly, not able to help myself, but not wanting to cause another scene in front of the other students. "I'm actually rather rich myself," I whispered to him, and his eyes widened in surprise.

"Are you?"

"I have two inheritances to my name," I told him, turning back to my breakfast, determined to get on with my day as though I wasn't front-page news.

"Well, I'll be expecting a nice ring then," Draco said seriously, but when I turned to look at him his smirk told me otherwise.

"How about I get you one of those sweet rings from Honeydukes that changes flavour according to your mood?"

Even Hermione and Ron joined in to laugh at my comment, while Draco muttered something about divorcing me if I even tried. We settled into a comfortable silence and I concentrated on devouring my eggs and beans on toast; it was delicious.I was only about halfway done when Draco make another intriguing observation.

"Harry," he said, "where's Pansy gone?"

"Wha?" I mumbled, with a mouthful of beans. I turned around to the Slytherin table and scanned the faces I saw there – some familiar, some not. Draco was right; Pansy's pug-like face was noticeably absent. I swallowed. "I dunno," I answered, and as I did, I remembered with cold clarity that Hermione had taken on the task of seeking revenge on Pansy. I turned to her and she looked at me with angelic innocence that spelled out her guilt in no uncertain terms. "Hermione?"

"Hmm?" she hummed. Hermione blinked at me girlishly and I suddenly wished we weren't surrounded by so many people.

"Have you heard anything about Pansy Parkinson?" I asked her, all three of us – myself, Draco, and Ron – watching her closely.

"That Slytherin girl?" she mused. "Hmm, well, I'm not certain, but I did hear some gossip in the girls' room yesterday. Apparently she's been struck down by some terrible, disfiguring illness, and she's had to be sent away from Hogwarts to be home tutored. It's not contagious, so I can't imagine how she must have gotten it, but apparently she looks just awful. Someone said it might have been a potion she didn't brew quite right. I do always say how important it is that you _study _to make sure you know what you're doing!"

"Yes, Hermione," I nodded, "you do always say that."

Draco looked even paler than usual as he scrutinized my old friend. I guessed he was starting to see a whole new side to her, a side I was surprised to see myself – as was Ron by the look on his face.

As we made our way to our first class of the day, Draco gripped my arm and slowed our stride, making us linger behind Ron and Hermione who were up ahead. "Don't _ever _let me piss her off," he stated, still looking a tad uneasy.

I just laughed and rushed to catch up with the two other Gryffindors, Draco following closely behind me.

--

"Did you see the look on Ron's face when I told him I was staying with you tonight?" I laughed as Draco pulled me into his room. "It was hilarious! I think he got a mental image!"

The day had floated blissfully by as yesterday had, each class melding carelessly into the next with ease. That's how my life felt now – _easy_ and carefree. With Draco at my side I felt like I could achieve anything - and I would. Voldemort was no match for me anymore; I felt like I could march up to him and blast him out of my life with a sneeze in his direction.

Draco pulled me into his arms. "Please, Harry," he said, his lips caressing my cheek, "I don't need to imagine Weasley picturing us in the sack."

"Well, for _my _benefit then," I whispered back to him, letting my hands wriggle their way under his jumper. "It's been so long, Draco, what might you and I look like in _the sack_?"

Draco growled like a hungry dragon, and directed me forcefully into his bedroom, practically flinging me on to his bed. He followed me on to his firm mattress, crawling over my body possessively. "A little like this," he purred, and claimed my mouth in a kiss.

My skin tingled in anticipation as I thought about what I wanted Draco to do to me tonight; I didn't think there could be any act more perfect to mark our engagement. Draco was already kneeling between my thighs so it was easy enough to lock his hips with my legs and pull him down into my groin. His mouth released mine at the movement and he looked surprised. "I want you to make love to me, Draco," I told him softly, my heart beating faster as I watched him release a tense breath. "Please," I whispered with need. I didn't think he would refuse me, but something was making him hesitate; I thought he must be worried about hurting me since it would be my first time.

"Are you sure?" he asked me softly, wriggling uncomfortably while locked between my legs. He was holding his weight off of me with his arms on either side of my rib cage as he continued to stare down at me, as if he was waiting for me to change my mind.

"I've been thinking about making love to you like this all week," I confessed. "The only thing I'm more sure about is spending the rest of my life with you."

Draco closed his eyes and I watched his perfect mouth twitch into a soft smile. "I love you," he said in response, the words mingled with his breath and settled on my face.

"Then show me how much," I requested, and he obliged me.

He leaned down to capture my lips again and I unlocked him from the grip I had around his hips. He pushed much of his weight back up on to his knees and let his hands drift down my chest and back up again, exploring me and undressing me as he went.

He sat up from the mattress and I followed him, raising my arms so he could tug the remainder of my already half removed jumper over my head. Once I was free, I made quick work of his trousers, undoing his buckle and pulling open the front as he pulled his own jumper and shirt off.

I was aching to feel his nude body against mine; we'd only had a few quick, fully clothed fumbles over the last few days and they'd barely whet my appetite for him. The more I had of him, the more I needed.

He pushed me back down to the mattress and I watched him with satisfaction as he attacked my own trousers, undoing the front and requesting with a quick, but oh-so-sexy "Up!" that I lift my bum for him to pull them free. Discarding my trousers then kicking off his own, I soon found myself whole again as he curled into me, spooning my back closely as he claimed the side of my neck as his own.

I surrendered to him, closing my eyes so that I could better concentrate on how he felt against me; his legs tangled in mine, his chest pressed into my back, and his cock nestled along the cleft of my arse like a promise. The intensity and intimacy of the moment flared into a desire that burned through my whole body and I needed to feel him on every part of me all at once, and even then I knew I would want more.

"Draco, I can't wait," I moaned, as his hand reached around me to grip my aching shaft. "I want you inside me."

He laughed softly into my ear and the sound shivered through me. "Haven't you ever heard that good things come to those who wait?" he said, affectionately telling me off for my impatience.

"I've been waiting all week!" I protested, but he just chuckled again.

"Well then another few minutes isn't going to kill you, Harry," he replied.

He shifted away from me and I rolled on to my back so I could see him properly. He propped his head up on his arm and looked down at me lovingly as he ran his fingers up and down my chest, admiring the firm muscles underneath. I wished he could have seen me a few months ago when I was playing Quidditch regularly, my muscles had been very nicely defined and it was a shame I'd lost them so quickly after leaving the team. He didn't seem to mind though; in fact, by the way he looked at my naked form, you'd think I was Godly – either that or edible.

He shuffled down the bed and settled himself comfortably between my legs, his face so close to my groin it made me shiver. He kissed and sucked and nipped along the inside of my thighs until I groaned in frustration and begged him to do _something. _Again, he laughed at me, but thankfully he took my uncomfortable position to heart and moved his mouth up to my delicate sack. Then, once he'd entertained himself – and me – for a minute or two, he shifted up again to my cock. He kissed and licked and teased me, obviously enjoying himself thoroughly.

"Draco, _please!_" I whimpered and he finally engulfed me in one go, making my body jerk at the sudden rush I felt.

Pleasure settled over me like a warm blanket as the feeling became steady with his regular movements, his head bobbing up and down on my cock. I gazed down at him working me over, and my pleasure spiked again; I groaned and looked away in an attempt to make this last. Soon he began to use his hands, first squeezing at my thighs, then at the base of my cock, massaging the muscle up and down in time with the movement of his mouth.

Pressure built up inside of me higher and higher, and as it did my moans and whimpers became louder too – embarrassingly so. I knew he loved to hear me, just like I loved to hear him, but I also knew he would tease me about it later because he knew I couldn't help myself.

"Stop!" I choked out, and thankfully he did. "Not like that, I need you now." I didn't know how much sense my words made, they seemed to be just fragments of the sentences I had in my head, but they seemed to be enough to convey what I wanted.

He sat up and reached for his wand. "This might feel a little weird," he said, his voice sounding thick with his own desire. Weird was an understatement; I actually _yelped_ when I felt my muscles relax and the slick feeling of – thankfully warm – lubricant lining my arse. My instincts told me to clench my muscles, but the spell wouldn't allow it. "Relax, Love," Draco soothed me, rubbing my lower abdomen, and I immediately obeyed. "Lift up a bit."

Draco shuffled in closer to me and positioned himself at my entrance. Rubbing my thigh with one hand, he used the other to ease himself into me, watching my face carefully as he did. I knew if I winced even once he would pull out and I'd have to talk him into trying again, so I closed my eyes and concentrated on keeping my face expressionless. It was uncomfortable feeling so stretched, my body wasn't used to it, but I knew this was just the first of many times Draco would make love to me this way and I would grow to love this feeling.

"Are you alright?" I heard him ask and my eyes fluttered open. His brow creased into a worried line and I could see him ready to retreat if I was hurting.

"I'm fine, Babe," I replied between a few deep breaths. "This is a new feeling, but I love having you so close to me."

"Doesn't get much closer than this," he smiled affectionately. "I'm all the way in, but I'll just sit here until you get used to it."

"No, don't," I nearly begged. "Move, please, I want to feel you. It doesn't hurt, honestly, that spell you used is really good!"

"Sure?" he questioned breathily, and I nodded. "Alright, I'm going to push your legs up a bit." Again, I nodded. He didn't push far, just enough to give him some room to move; I was more than ready.

When he began to thrust, pushing in and out of me, the sensation was more than I expected. It affected my whole body and I felt myself slowly losing control as I began to shake at the intensity of it. In all honesty, I thought this feeling was incredible enough as it was, but when he brushed against one particular spot inside of me, a cry ripped from my throat and I thought I would come right then and there.

"Merlin," I heard Draco whisper reverently, and his pace increased enthusiastically as he tried to hit that same spot again. And he did, many times, until I was a quivering mess, moaning like a two Sickle whore underneath him, calling out his name.

My orgasm tore through my whole body and erupted from me unexpectedly, my body jerking from the force of it, something I'd never experienced before. I was so consumed by it, I didn't notice Draco reach his own release, but when he slumped over, his body radiating heat and dripping sweat onto my chest, I knew he had.

Several seconds passed in silence as I began to regain control of my senses and Draco his; not long afterwards, Draco pulled out of me and rolled over to lie by my side. "That was incredible," I whispered, turning my head to watch Draco still panting beside me. He just moaned tiredly and reached over to pull me into a satisfied embrace; I settled into his arms and delighted at his hot breath ghosting over my nose and cheeks.

"Mmm, Harry," I heard him whisper as his eyelids fluttered sleepily. I smiled.

"Draco," I murmured, "when is the next Hogsmeade weekend?"

"Huh?" he grunted. "Um, dunno. Not this weekend, maybe the one after. Why?" He yawned as he asked me why, and I knew I should just let him fall into a post-sex slumber, but I had too much on my mind.

"I want to buy you a ring," I told him.

"Stop it," he grumbled. "I wish I'd never said anything about it now."

"No, seriously. I really want to go ring shopping," I insisted, shaking him a little. "We could both get one."

"Yeah, okay," he sighed, and I let the silence drift over us once more.

I watched him next to me. His white blond hair fell defiantly out of place and into his eyes; each strand captivated me, as did everything else about him. I wondered if I would feel this way about him forever, but I didn't see why I wouldn't. He would look so good in shimmering silver robes, they would match his eyes, and I could see him standing next to me smiling as we promised ourselves to one another. "Are you still awake?" I whispered and he groaned in response; I took that as a yes. "Draco, I don't want to wait," I said. "Let's get married right away."

If he hadn't been completely awake before, he certainly was now. "What?" he asked me incredulously. "Harry – we – you have to – we have to be of age first."

"I'll turn seventeen at the end of July, we can get married this summer in August," I reasoned. It was still a few months away, since it was just coming up to Christmas now. We still had over seven months to go, which seemed too long. He just frowned at me and chewed on his lip like he wanted to say something, but didn't know if he should. "Look, I know that your mum wants me to kill Voldemort first, but we don't know how far away that is, and well, what if-" I stopped. I didn't want to admit to him my fears about my death or his.

"You aren't going to die!" he exclaimed, holding me tighter as though he wanted to squeeze those thoughts from my mind.

"Okay," I sighed. "I know, but really anything could happen."

"Nothing is going to happen right now in any case," he replied. "Just go to sleep, alright?"

I nodded, and calmed myself by running my fingers up and down his side, soothing myself as well as him. "I love you, Draco," I whispered, as the quiet settled and I closed my eyes.

I slipped quickly into a sound and peaceful slumber.

--

I'm not sure what woke me, but I think it was purely instinctive, or perhaps my body noticed Draco's absence and was suddenly not able to relax. Whatever it was, I didn't really have time to contemplate because I realized in quick succession that not only was Draco not in bed with me, but he was in fact fully dressed and looking alarmingly like he was about to Apparate somewhere. He was staring at the ring he always wore on his finger, and whispering something to it – an incantation.

I flung myself out of the bed and leapt over to him in a few short strides. "Draco!" I cried out as I watched him begin to disappear, and he looked up at me in shock and horror as I gripped tightly to his vanishing arm.

I felt the telltale hook behind my navel and I felt relief as I realized it had worked and I was being pulled with him, wherever he was going. Draco landed steadily on his feet and was quick to steady me as well when I stumbled. "What are you doing?" he hissed at me.

"What are _you _doing?" I snapped back angrily. I looked around the orderly looking study we were in, but didn't recognize anything. "Where the hell are we?"

"You shouldn't be here, Harry," he whispered his eyes darting around the room, like he expected something to jump out at us. "You should go back to – Oh my God, Harry you're _naked!_"

Suddenly the cool air brushing against my naked flesh felt rather exposing and I glanced around the room to make sure we were alone. As far as I could tell we were.

"Yes, well, you should be naked too, Draco," I replied, hurt and confusion evident in my voice. "You should be with me in your bed back at Hogwarts! What are you doing here? Hell, where are we?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but he was stopped at a noise we both heard clearly on the other side of the door. "Salazar save us," he whispered, his eyes wide and terrified.

Someone was coming in.

Author's Note: *gasp* Whatever will they do?!


	25. Draco: Den of the Beast

Author's Note: My turn again. Thanks to Laurel for her beta work and our loyal readers for their reviews. In effort to counter the fact that it's been ages since we've updated, Laurel and I have decided to give you the final chapters back to back until the story is done.

It was bliss.

I, Draco Malfoy, son of the most feared Death Eater, was now officially engaged to Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived. I barely restrained myself from leaping up and down at the very thought of spending the rest of my life – however short that might be – with this messy-haired boy that I adored.

Hand-in-hand I was on the way to deliver Harry to his second class of the day, as we'd missed Defense, though I was loath to part with him yet. Still, with the Charms classroom only two floors away, I had even less time with him than I'd anticipated.

All I heard to indicate that Harry and I were in a world of trouble, thus ending our current joy, was the telltale clicking of heels on the stone floor. Professor McGonagall descended on us like a Dementor, crossing her arms and plying us both with a stern glance. "Mr. Potter, might I have a word with you in my office?" she asked, but it was clear that Harry wasn't allowed to say 'no'. Left with no choice he nodded dutifully, shooting me an apologetic glance. I didn't really understand what he was sorry for until I turned around and saw Severus standing behind me with a sneer plastered on his face.

"Malfoy," he hissed in greeting and immediately turned to stride purposefully away, a wordless indication that I should follow him. I did, marching through the school at a quick pace to match that of my godfather.

The moment we were secure in his dungeon office, the door locked behind us and rounded on me. "Have the Slytherins taught you nothing, Draco?" he asked, clearly livid.

"You mean aside from how to grin and bear it as they tear your life apart?" I bit back. I closed my eyes, unwilling to watch as my only ally shifted sides on me.

"Discretion, Draco. It's key when dealing with situations such as these. Do you think that the Dark Lord is blind to what happens within these walls?" Snape hissed.

"Of course not," I replied. "I'm not an imbecile."

"Then stop acting like one," Snape snarled. "Ever since you've taken up with Potter, you seem to have lost yourself. You're acting like an ignorant Gryffindor and you're taking unnecessary chances with your life."

I stiffened, wondering what exactly the man was referring to. Could he have known about my trip to the Manor? Or was he just referring to my dalliances with Harry and how distracted they had made me? "I've only taken calculated risks," I told him, only being partially honest. I knew that my trip to the Manor was certainly risky, what with the Dark Lord hovering everywhere at once, but worse, I knew what I was doing with Harry was far more dangerous and the consequences unknown. But I wouldn't give it a second's thought. I loved Harry and I would pay whatever penalty that bore.

"You call this morning's display a calculated risk?" he asked incredulously.

"Well, of course not, but I can hardly be blamed for my impulsive Gryffindor's behavior," I denounced. "I would have preferred he ask me quietly rather than make a bloody spectacle, but you know Harry. He's the center of attention no matter what he does," I added, a wry smile on my lips as I thought of my beautiful idiot Harry on his knees. What a mess he'd made of things, still I couldn't help but encourage him when his antics made me feel so warm and wanted.

"I wish he hadn't done it at all," Snape grumbled. "Do you realize how difficult – no, nigh impossible - it will be to hide this from the Dark Lord?"

I steeled myself as the truth of those words flooded over me. I'd known of course, that it would only be a matter of time before this all came up, but I had hoped to bask in the light of our newly formed bond for a bit longer than this. "I'm aware," I told him firmly. "But I don't care. He'll be dead before he gets to hear of it."

"Pardon?" he asked, his face growing paler than usual as he struggled to make sense of my words.

"I intend to kill him," I explained. "Tonight."

"And how do you expect to do that when he's all the way at Malfoy Manor and you're here?" Snape hissed. He was clearly terrified, though I wasn't sure if his fear was for himself or me. I held up my right hand, showing the rich bauble that graced my middle finger. He recognized it and retreated a few steps. "Where did you get that?"

"Father," I replied. "Though I daresay he never intended me to use it in the way I've planned."

"And how is that?" my godfather asked.

"I've used it once before to sneak into my family home. The wards don't even so much as shiver because they know me. I'm to meet mother tonight, and she'll show me where Voldemort sleeps. I'll slay him as he dreams about killing my fiancé."

"You're taking on too much, Draco. You're just a boy," Snape said. I could feel the fury coming off of him in waves, which merely proved how afraid he was. "And it's not your responsibility."

"I'll be of age in a few months and Harry's done more than this at a younger age. Killing a man in his sleep is not such a brave thing after all," I muttered. I didn't like hearing the fear in my godfather's voice, but I refused to change my mind. Now more than ever I needed the monster dead. For me, for Harry, for us. We'd never have a moment of rest while his threatening presence continued to loom over us.

"Be reasonable," Snape ordered, now seething mad. "You are not Harry Potter. You are not the Chosen One! What makes you think this little plan of yours will even work? It's Potter who is destined to kill him, not you!"

"I have to try. If I don't and something happens to Harry…." My voice trailed away, choking in my throat. I wouldn't even consider the consequences of my failing at this. I couldn't allow Harry to flaunt his beautiful neck in battle with that madman. Harry dying was one risk I was unwilling to take. "I love him."

An exasperated sigh was all that met my ears for a long while, but eventually Snape nodded solemnly and narrowed his eyes. "Fine. If you insist on going through with this fool's errand you'll require my assistance."

"I don't need-" I began to protest, but Snape waved me off as if I hadn't spoken at all and leveled me with such a glare I knew better than to argue with.

"You'll need a way to kill him. Have you thought of how you'll do it?" he asked.

I shook my head, feeling embarrassed for the first time. "Not really. I thought of the cutting curse you taught me last year."

"Too slow," Snape murmured. "It's decisive, but he'll have too much time to kill you while he bleeds out."

"As long as it keeps Harry safe," I began, but I found myself on the receiving end of yet another glare, this one holding more malice than the last.

"And how do you think Potter will be if you disappear on him? How distraught will he be when we find you dead because you were too stupid to think things out?" he asked, his voice quiet and calm, which was far scarier than any other tone he used.

Yes, Harry would be broken for some time, but he would move on, wouldn't he? If the positions were reversed, could I have moved on? No. "Fine," I said at last. "What do you suggest then?"

"Not now," he replied. "Tonight, you'll meet me in my classroom for detention, directly after supper. We'll discuss it then."

I sighed and nodded, knowing I was in no position to argue. "You'll keep this a secret, right?"

Severus simply sneered at me and rolled his eyes. "Unlike you, I have not forgotten my role as Slytherin and spy. Do try and be more sensible over the next few hours."

"I'll do my best," I assured him, and as I turned away, I heard him mutter, 'Salazar save us,' under his breath before I hurried on to my next class.

My eyes couldn't tear away from the spot by the Great Hall where Harry had knelt before me and asked for my hand in marriage. It was only when I spotted Harry coming my way, his eyes rooted to the same place, that the truth of my godfather's words came rushing in. I was turning into a mushy Gryffindor, turning my back on everything I had been before.

I needed to stop it before it was too late.

Harry walked over and kissed me chastely. "Hey," he greeted, and I smirked at his general ineloquence. I loved that Harry didn't always know exactly what to say, or the proper way to convey his feelings, but 'hey' was enough for me, especially when he whispered it against the shell of my ear that way.

"Hey," I whispered back, smirking ever so slightly. "I keep looking at that spot too," I told him, making it very clear that he wasn't alone in his revere. "Doesn't quite feel real, does it?" He smiled and blushed and I wanted to kiss him all over again, but that wasn't very Slytherin of me. "So, detention?" I asked instead.

"Nah," he replied, making me smile with another one of his rushed, nonsensical words. "She took a few house points because I'd broken the rules, but mostly she wanted to make sure I wasn't completely out of my mind."

Remembering my own conversation, I could almost predict how Harry's went earlier. I could hear McGonagall's shrewd voice asking what an upstanding young man like Harry thought he was doing with a ruddy Death Eater like myself. I wondered if there would ever come a time where Harry and I would be accepted by the masses, or if it would just be one battle after the next.

"Yeah, I'll bet she did," I scoffed, trying and failing to keep the bitterness from my tone. All too quickly Harry had soothed me into calm as his fingertips trailed along my arm to grip my hand. Suddenly I didn't care how many wars we had to fight. Harry and I would be happy together, even if it took us our whole lives to get there.

"I told her I was out of my mind in love with you," he said, "and that I wouldn't have it any other way."

I couldn't stifle my laughter, my entire body warming at his sappy words. Why did I love him so completely? He was so much the opposite of me in every fathomable way, but he just seemed to have attached himself to my heart and never let go. "That's so incredibly saccharine, Harry," I quipped, though my grin never melted, even as Snape's words echoed through my head.

"And you love it," he purred into his ear once more, and my shiver made him smile. "What about you then? Did you cop a detention?" he asked me at last.

I merely shrugged, not really wanting to get into the details. I knew it was wrong to keep things from Harry, but I couldn't tell him, I knew that he would try to stop me if he knew what I was up to. "Sort of," I replied cryptically, but he looked at me with such curiosity that I knew I wouldn't be allowed to leave it at that. "Officially, yes, but unofficially Severus will tutor me in advanced potions. He lets me help with whatever he's working on, whereas you, I'd imagine, would have had to scrub out all the cauldrons without your wand," I explained, trying to tease him and distract Harry from the real subject. I hated lying to him, and I vowed to make Snape tutor me in whatever he was working on so that my story wouldn't be completely false. I was already undeserving as it was. I shouldn't compound that with lies.

"Yeah, I've done that before!" he laughed, slipping his arm around my waist as we graced the Great Hall with our presence. "That's completely unfair you know," he complained. "I always knew he favored you."

I was about to point out that he was my godfather, and favored me about as much as Dumbledore favored him, but I was sidetracked as I watched every head in the hall turn to watch us. The word 'discretion' repeated in Snape's voice rang through my mind, but that seemed well beyond possible now. Surely everyone had heard of Harry's proposal, and our current behaviour would indicate to even the dullest student than I had said yes.

Granger and Weasley ripped the news from Harry's lips easily enough, not that I was eager to keep our relationship a secret, I only wished I could have held onto him a bit longer. It seemed Harry's old friends had found their way back into his good graces, and I suspected it was only a matter of time before they took precedence over me. I wasn't capable of begrudging him anything that made him happy though, especially when he might need to thoroughly lean on them if my plan went awry.

I shook my head and tried not to think about that. I wouldn't fail Harry. I couldn't. Instead, I tried to focus on the conversation, piping in occasionally to disparage Weasley's dress robes and whatnot, but my heart just wasn't in it. My blissful excitement at being engaged to Harry had been lost in Snape's logical obsidian gaze. He reminded me of my duties and now I was unable to forget.

As the door to the Potions classroom shut behind me, I let out a heavy sigh. Harry had been so eager to be with me, to make love to me, and as much as I wanted to oblige, I knew I couldn't tonight. I had too much to do, too many obstacles ahead of me still.

"Well, are you coming in or are you just going to stand by the door all evening?" Snape muttered, not even looking up from his parchment rolls.

"How are we going to kill him?" I asked, not in the mood for preamble. I could have been in my room snogging Harry senseless, but instead I was down here in the dank dungeons with my godfather. I was damned well going to make sure this meeting was productive.

Snape looked up at my question, his eyebrow cocked as he surveyed me. "You'll have to use an Unforgivable," he replied at last.

"All your wisdom and cunning for that? Avada him? I could have come up with that on my own," I hissed, ready to turn and leave.

"But you didn't," Snape replied.

"I _did_ actually," I bit back, "but I don't think…."

My voice trailed off again as I was unable to finish the sentence, but it didn't matter; Snape finished it for me. "You don't think you'll be able," he said and I nodded, feeling weakness flood my body. Snape was at my side a moment later; his voice smoother than I'd ever heard it. "There's nothing wrong with that, Draco," he sighed. "I'm sure that part of what attracts Potter to you is that he senses how incapable you are of hurting another person with more than petty words."

I shrugged. Perhaps that were true, but Harry wasn't here for me to ask. "I want him dead so badly, I just don't think the incantation will work for me and it's not as if I'll get a second try. I've struggled with all of the Unforgivables; it was part of the reason why Father had punished me over the summer. I couldn't even master the Cruciatus."

"I know," he replied.

"So, what am I supposed to do? Bludgeon him over the head with a candlestick?" I hissed. I didn't want to play these mind games - not tonight. I should have been leaving for the Manor soon. I didn't have time for this.

"Well, as ironic as it would be for the Dark Lord to be felled without the use of magic, I daresay he would fillet you before you got the opportunity to sneak up on him. Even in sleep, the Dark Lord is vigilant," Snape replied.

"I assume he'll have a contingency of guards," I muttered, but surprisingly Snape shook his head.

"No, quite the opposite. He doesn't trust mere mortals to guard him, he only uses magic to protect him as he slumbers, which is his Achilles heel. His magic is powerful, but not infallible," Snape informed me.

"So then what? How do I get around wards like that without him noticing?" I asked, getting slightly frustrated.

"With this," Snape said, holding up a thin vial of purple liquid. "This will make you invisible to more than just eyes. It will make you invisible to magic as well. Untouchable," he whispered, almost reverently. I suppose I would too if I were him. This was clearly a pet project of his, a favorite concoction that he'd brewed, and I was honored that he'd shared it with me despite my annoyance at his cryptic behavior. "You only need a sip."

"You're sure it works?" I asked, and Snape leveled me with a snarky gaze.

"Of course," he huffed, unimpressed with my questioning him.

I held up my hands in mild defense, but I was unable to wipe the grin from my face. "I had to ask," I informed him and he seemed to understand. "Can I have it now so that I can get this over with?"

Snape handed the vial over and stared at me, his fingers lingering on the glass for longer than necessary. "Are you sure about this? Is Potter truly worth your life?" he asked.

"Yes," I answered without hesitation before reciting the incantation that would take me home. The potions classroom bent and shifted around me, the colors morphing from deep grays and black to that of rich wood and ornate rugs.

Once again I found myself in Father's study, and this time I was armed. I downed a portion of the potion and immediately felt the buzz of magic tingle through me. It took longer than I'd anticipated adapting to the feeling of being invisible because I couldn't even see myself. I could get a general feeling of where my foot was stepping, but twice I nearly twisted my ankle trying to navigate my way around. It must have taken me ten goes to find and turn the door handle.

This was never going to work.

I took a deep breath and concentrated. The longer I moved about, the more used to the sensation I became, and before long I was moving about the Manor as if I owned the place - which I sort of did. When I came to the wing Mother had informed me was Voldemort's quarters, I slipped past the wards with no problem.

But I quickly realized that might be because there weren't any wards active.

Voldemort wasn't there, and after lingering in the corridor, I overheard someone mention that he was personally overseeing a raid and that he probably wouldn't be back until morning – long after the potion would likely wear off. I couldn't just stand there waiting, but I was loathe to return to Hogwarts a failure.

Cursing, I did the only thing left to me. I Apparated back to Hogwarts, finding it far easier to sneak in than last time. I went to bed that night, still invisible, and wishing that Harry was curled up next to me. I had wasted a night that could have been spent in his arms. Maybe Severus was right, maybe there was someone else better suited to this task; I wondered briefly if everyone was right and it was supposed to be Harry. I shivered at the possibility. Whether the rumors were true or not it still felt like we were running out of time and I certainly wanted to spend as many minutes with my beautiful Gryffindor as I could. Every second we had left together.

Panic shot through me as I woke up the next morning still under the effects of the potion. Harry was supposed to be there any moment and what would he think if he found me invisible? Remembering that I had told my boyfriend to just waltz right in, I began to worry what would happen when he did and couldn't find me in my room. I'd have to tell Snape off for this later. A warning about how long the effects would last would have been nice.

I dressed awkwardly and brushed my teeth - again, awkwardly - and eventually gave up on the hoping the potion would wear off. I thought that I would have to come clean to Harry and tell him what I'd been up to, but then I felt an odd tingle in my fingertips and stared down at them, watching my body slowly return to normal. When I could clearly see my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I checked to make sure my robes weren't on backwards and flew out the door, nearly running into Harry in my haste.

"Good morning," I whispered. "What are you doing waiting out here? I told you to just come in."

"I would have if your damned portrait would have let me!" he huffed, and I smothered him in a relieved hug. Perhaps the magic hadn't allowed Harry to enter because it didn't think I was there. It seemed Snape's potion worked brilliantly, perhaps too brilliantly.

I wound myself around Harry, happy that I could snog him openly and not care who spotted us. He leaned into me with a soft sigh and I felt my pulse race as he wobbled with the effort to stand upright as I let him go. "I love how you react to me," I sighed, smiling wider at his blush.

"Oh shut up," he replied petulantly. "You feel the same way about me, admit it!"

"That I do," I replied, thinking of all the ways I could prove it. "Let's go back in my room and I'll show you exactly how I feel about you."

"You know we can't," he reminded me as he completely unwound from our embrace. "We've already gotten into trouble for skipping class, besides I'll be able to stay with you all night tonight and we can take all the time we need."

"All night?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow as I took his hand and led him toward the Great Hall. "Sounds like I'm going to need to conserve my energy today."

Visions of what 'all night' might entail twisted through my brain, making me feel both aroused and thoroughly guilty. I suspected from Harry's words the night before what he wanted from me, but I wasn't sure the timing was right. I didn't feel like I could take something so precious from him with the Voldemort situation still looming over us. I hadn't been entirely honest with him and I knew it was wrong to make love to him until I could be forthright.

When I saw Harry's gaze flick over to the Ravenclaw table, landing easily on his ex, Michael Corner, I began to wonder if I was the only one keeping secrets. I could see Harry's face grow pinched and pained as he spied his ex boyfriend still looking thoroughly dejected. Another boy, Henderson if memory served, grabbed Corner's hand and glared at Harry as if to challenge him, but the challenge went unmet…for the moment.

"I see your ex has a new boyfriend," I remarked, as casually as possible, but I knew my own hand was probably squeezing Harry's just as possessively as the Ravenclaws were clinging together.

"Yeah, it looks like it," he replied, looking to me instead. "I'm glad he does. I hope his new boyfriend will be able to make him as happy as you make me, the way I never could have."

I nodded, pleased with Harry's quick and decisive answer. When would my surges of jealousy fade away? One would think that being engaged would help with that, but it hadn't. Now more than ever I felt terrified of losing Harry; to Voldemort, death, another boy, it didn't really matter what it was that took him away from me, I would fight it all. "Looks like we're still big news," I observed, changing the subject to something more appealing – us.

"Yeah, you'd think people would be over it by now," Harry muttered as once again, we sat with Granger and Weasley. I supposed if this kept up I'd have to start calling them by their given names, but that still felt too wrong in my mouth, so I stuck to what felt comfortable.

"Yes, well, I expect it will continue unless you learn to be a bit more _discrete_, Harry," Granger chirped in a very stern manner. I wondered if she'd be pleased to know how closely her lecture mirrored my godfather's, or if she'd be disturbed by that fact.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, playing dumb. It was amusing how often he used that tactic and even more surprising how often it worked. Even I'd been a victim of Harry's 'I'm completely innocent' grin, but I could spot it in a heartbeat now. Apparently Granger could to, because she didn't humor him with an explanation, she simply tossed him the _Daily Prophet_.

"Holy shit," Harry breathed and I immediately leaned over his shoulder to see a picture of Harry on his knees in front of me. Now normally I might covet a picture like this, especially if we were both sans robes, but not on the cover of the _Daily Prophet_, and not when it was bound to find a way into Voldemort's lap. How had the news spread to the _Prophet_ already? I assumed I would have gotten a visit from Mother if she'd known about our engagement and surely she would learn of it before the famous wizarding paper?

Clearly Mother was slipping.

I tried to breathe regularly as the full extent of what could mean settled over me. I had to kill Voldemort right away. I couldn't waste any more time. Now that he was aware of my relationship with Harry, he would stop at nothing to murder us both. The Dark Mark on my forearm hissed to life, burning my flesh with ferocious intent, but I did my best to ignore it. "Oh fuck," I gasped out, realizing that meant the Dark Lord was trying to summon me.

I resisted. I wasn't his dog; I didn't heel when he ordered it.

Only vaguely I read the article, seeing that they were playing up Harry's poor orphan status as the reason he wanted to marry me as if a Malfoy weren't clever enough to see through a ploy like that. It was slander and nothing more; Harry had never once brought up the subject of money with me. Not to mention, it was my parents' fortune, not mine; if I married without their consent I wouldn't see a Knut of it myself. And even if I was blinded by Harry's good looks and charm, there was no way the Gryffindor would be able to fool my family.

It wasn't until I saw the name gracing the article that I realized what had happened. Rosette Greenhaven was a ladder obliterating social climber whose family had been vying for my hand since birth. They hadn't been the only ones of course, but Father had held firm, refusing to make a contract until I was closer to age. He was always thorough with his research and refused to make a hasty business transaction, and the person I married would be just that to him - an opportunity. I was sure the only reason he'd agreed to Mother's petition that I be allowed to marry Harry was because Father could see the sense in such a match.

Despite being an orphan, Harry's blood was mostly pure, and his fame and power would get him further than a rich vault ever would have. It didn't matter to me though what reasons my father had decided on to allow our contract, just that he had. I loved Harry for his humor, his kind heart and his delectable arse. I couldn't care less about the rest.

What I did care about, however, was the fact that Rosette might have sealed my death with her jabbering mouth. "I'm going to kill her," I hissed. "Stupid bitch! I've never liked her; she's just pissed that it won't be _her _marrying into my vault!"

"What?" he gasped, glancing away from the paper and into my seething face. "You know her?"

"Yeah, her family has been trying to worm their way into my father's good books for years, always pushing their daughter – this _Rosette _girl – on to me," I growled, scanning the room for her younger sister, Emily. She was a Seventh year Ravenclaw, so I was certain that was exactly where the photo and quotes had originated. "She's like four years older than me, but she has siblings still at Hogwarts, I bet it was one of them who gave her the picture."

"It's alright, Baby," he sighed, rubbing my legs and successfully bringing my thoughts to something more enjoyable. "It's not like we were really able to keep it a secret anyway. Stupidly, I didn't even think about who was around, I was just so desperate for you to stop and listen to me. I'm so sorry, I should have waited until it was just us, or I should have just said yes when you asked me the first time."

I hadn't meant to make him feel guilty. I was embarrassed by his display, but I didn't love him any less for it. If nothing else, I loved him more. He hated being the center of attention, yet he'd been willing to fall down on his knees and propose to me. I'm only happy I didn't answer him in the middle of everyone too, or who knows what the paper would have said this morning. "You're right, there's nothing we could have done about it," I assured him. "It doesn't matter anyway, I don't care who knows! I'm just angry that she could suggest you were trying to exploit me for my money."

He leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips and grinned. "I'm actually rather rich myself," he informed me, as if discussing the quality of the weather.

"Are you?" I asked, mildly surprised. I'd assumed the Potter name had come with a large vault, but I had no idea how much of that Harry would see with his parents passed away so many years before he even knew he was a wizard.

"I have two inheritances to my name," he informed me, and I wondered what the second was, but he was already diving into his breakfast as if he hadn't uttered a word. Besides, I thought it would be rather rude to ask in light of the recent article. Perhaps Harry would tell me one day who else thought of him as a son.

"Well, I'll be expecting a nice ring then," I mentioned instead, playing at serious but falling quite short.

"How about I get you one of those sweet rings from Honeydukes that changes flavour according to your mood?" he asked, grinning at me widely.

The table's other occupants joined in Harry's mirth and I mentioned that he'd be looking at an instant divorce if he even so much as tried to pawn off a candy ring as my engagement ring.

I was trying to ignore the fact that Harry ate like a starving buffoon, a trait I no doubt had Weasley to blame for, when I noticed something off at the Slytherin table.

"Harry," I asked, "where's Pansy gone?"

"Wha?" he asked around a mouth full of food. I resisted the urge to lecture him on manners, but just barely. I wouldn't embarrass him in front of his friends, but I was going to have to have a talk with him about etiquette before we dined with my parents. I shuddered to think of Mother's reaction if Harry were to try and talk to her with his mouth filled with beans. "I dunno," he replied, thankfully swallowing his bite. He turned to Hermione, an odd choice I thought, but she weren't lifted her eyebrows in innocent question at his glare. "Hermione?"

"Hmm?" she answered, batting her eyelashes demurely, or what I suspected she intended to be demure.

"Have you heard anything about Pansy Parkinson?" Harry asked, and even I found myself leaning forward to hear her answer.

"That Slytherin girl?" she mused. "Hmm, well, I'm not certain, but I did hear some gossip in the girls' room yesterday. Apparently she's been struck down by some terrible, disfiguring illness, and she's had to be sent away from Hogwarts to be home tutored. It's not contagious, so I can't imagine how she must have gotten it, but apparently she looks just awful. Someone said it might have been a potion she didn't brew quite right. I do always say how important it is that you _study _to make sure you know what you're doing!"

"Yes, Hermione," Harry replied, his voice a bit detached, "you do always say that."

I swallowed thickly at her reply, a hum of approval zipping through me, closely chased by unexpected wariness. I let the subject drop, but immediately started to resize the petite girl across from me. Perhaps she was worthy of Harry after all.

My body had never felt so relaxed before. I felt like I was floating on a cloud. Making love to Harry, feeling his body spasm around me, hearing his throat make delicious sounds of pleasure and even the heady scent of sex that filled the air had me buzzing. Harry had felt amazing. I'd fucked some of the caddy Slytherin girls before, but it had never felt like that. In fact, had I known how wonderful it felt to bury myself into Harry's yearning body I wouldn't have been so resistant at the start.

It took me a while to wrap my mind around what needed to be done, but the moment he gave himself to me, all of my duties were washed away. I suddenly realized that I couldn't keep lying to Harry and I couldn't keep up this mission. Someone else would have to murder that monster because I belonged right here in Harry's warm embrace.

My erection felt odd as it softened, still inside of Harry's perfect arse, so I shifted, pulling out and spooning up against him instead. "That was incredible," he sighed, turning enough to watch me catch my breath. I don't know what I said in reply because my mind was still lethargic with the feeling of complete relaxation that he'd left me with. I pulled him against me, nuzzling his soft, ebony locks. I silently noted that I needed to research stamina potions so that I could have this over and over without needing a nap in between.

"Draco," Harry murmured, pulling me out of my quiet thoughts. "When is the next Hogsmeade weekend?"

"Huh?" I asked sleepily. "Um, dunno. Not this weekend, maybe the one after. Why?" I added, unable to stifle a yawn.

"I want to buy you a ring," he replied firmly.

"Stop it," I grumbled. "I wish I'd never said anything about it now." I didn't need a ring, it wasn't a tradition in pureblood marriages anyhow, not until the wedding at least.

"No, seriously, I really want to go ring shopping," he insisted, shaking me awake. "We could both get one."

"Yeah, okay," I agreed, hoping the answer would appease him enough to just cuddle up and fall asleep with me. I was in no mood to argue about a ring.

"Are you still awake?" he whispered after a long silence when I must have dozed off. I don't think my answer was articulated very well, but Harry continued anyway. "Draco, I don't want to wait," he said. "Let's get married right away."

I propped myself up on my elbows, the weight of Harry's words dispelling any thoughts of sleep. "What?" I asked him, full of confusion and concern. Where was this coming from? We were still young; we had plenty of time to enjoy a proper engagement. There was no need to rush into anything. "Harry – we – you have to – we have to be of age first."

"I'll turn seventeen at the end of July, we can get married this summer in August," he replied, and I knew then what he was after. Had Harry just agreed to marry me because he didn't think he'd live long enough to tire of me? I had every intention of having bitter arguments with him well into our eleventies. I could easily picture me having to lecture Harry for trying to have a conversation without his dentures, or what that innocent Gryffindor expression would look like from under a long, silver beard. "Look, I know that your mum wants me to kill Voldemort first," he continued, and his next words confirmed my suspicions, "but we don't know how far away that is, and well, what if-" his silence was all I needed. I grabbed his shoulders, pulling him against me and clung to him for dear life.

"You aren't going to die!" I nearly shouted. I wouldn't let him take away the life we deserved together.

"Okay," he sighed. "I know, but really anything could happen."

I wondered if Harry even knew how powerful his words were, and just as quickly as I had dispelled the idea of killing Voldemort myself, Harry's fear and distrust in his own mortality brought my determination to rid Harry's life of this monster flaring back. I had to do this - for him, for me, for our future together. Fuck the rest of the wizarding world, I didn't care that it would save them as well; selfishly, I just wanted to hold onto this feeling with Harry.

"Nothing is going to happen right now in any case," I replied solemnly. "Just go to sleep, alright?"

Harry nodded, and snuggled into the covers, running his fingers up and down my side. "I love you, Draco," he whispered and I let myself melt into him.

"I love you too, Harry," I assured him before I heard his breathing level and soften, indicating he was already asleep. "That's why I have to do this. I hope you'll understand and forgive me."

He made a quiet noise in his sleep and buried his face in the nape of my neck. When I was sure he was sound asleep, I carefully disentangled myself from his grasp and slipped out of bed. Quietly pulling on my clothes and school robes, I watched Harry sleeping peacefully. Part of me craved to get back in bed with him, smother him in kisses and bury myself inside of him again. I knew though, that if I wanted Harry's sweet face to remain peaceful, that I had to leave him now.

Voldemort was surely asleep and undefended by now, and I had already tested the potion, so I was certain it would work. All I had to do was sneak in and slit the man's throat – for he was just a man after all, even if he was a madman.

I pocketed the remainder of Snape's potion; easily two more doses, maybe even three, and took one last lingering look at my boyfriend, my fiancé, my lover. Harry's arms were twisted around the pillow as if he thought it was me, occasionally nuzzling the green fabric and murmuring unintelligible things in his sleep. His black hair was splayed across the pillow, a lock or two falling into his face, and I couldn't help but reach down and brush my knuckles against his soft cheeks, pushing the hair out of his eyes. My mistake, apparently, was leaning in for a kiss, which I placed soft and sweet against his parted lips.

The kiss itself wasn't a mistake, but it was the only explanation for what happened next. I stood at the end of the bed, turning my ring as I recited the incantation that would take me to the Manor. Just as the magic took me, turning the ring into a powerful Portkey, Harry woke up and cried out my name before leaping out of bed and grabbing my arm.

The familiarity of my father's study surrounded me, but, alarmingly, the unexpected presence of Harry followed me as well. I quickly grabbed him, holding him close so he wouldn't fall as I scanned the room for anyone who might have seen out entrance. "What are you doing?" I hissed at him as I checked every dark corner.

"What are _you _doing?" he snapped back angrily. "Where the hell are we?"

"You shouldn't be here, Harry," I whispered, finishing my examination of the room before turning my attention to my bold little Gryffindor. "You should go back to – Oh my God, Harry you're _naked!_"

He didn't even blush, but merely put his hands on his hips as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "Yes, well, you should be naked too, Draco," he replied, his voice betraying the fear and confusion he felt even if his actions didn't. "You should be with me in your bed back at Hogwarts! What are you doing here?"

I opened my mouth to reply, but instantly paused when I heard a noise coming from the other side of the door. "Salazar save us," I breathed, frantic with fear.

Someone was coming in.

Without any further hesitation, I threw my robes over Harry's naked body, refusing to allow my gaze to linger over the smooth lines and muscular curves I found there. I rummaged in the pocket, ignoring the glare he shot me that clearly said he didn't think that now was the best time to be getting fresh, but he blushed mildly when I pulled out the potion vial and handed it to him.

"Do you trust me?" I asked and instead of answering with words, he upended the potion into his mouth, drinking it all before I could stop him. "Fuck!" I hissed, but it was too late. Harry was already fading from my sight and there was no potion left for me. "I suppose it's good that you trust me, Harry, but dammit, you weren't supposed to drink it all."

"Sorry," I heard from somewhere nearby. "This is weird."

The noise at the other side of the door grew louder and I heard a key slip into the lock. I hissed for Harry to be silent and readied myself for whoever was about to walk in on me. When I saw the long, blond tresses of my father, I relaxed. Slightly.

"I thought I felt the wards go off in here," he mentioned silkily as he shut the door behind him and just stood there staring at me as if he'd never had the opportunity before. "I assume you're here because of the article this morning?"

Lucius' eyebrows were quirked delicately, making it clear that it was my turn to explain myself. "Exactly," I lied. "I knew you and mother would be furious for not hearing about it from me first, so I thought I would try to smooth things over."

"How very gracious of you," he replied, sounding as though he thought the opposite. "It was unwise of you to come here, Draco."

"I understand," I replied, bowing my head. "I wish only to do my duty as a Malfoy."

"And do you think that fucking a mudblood Gryffindor is doing your duty?" he hissed. Panic laced through my veins as I took in the full extent of my father; face drawn, silver eyes flaring, fingers balled up into tight fists – Lucius was livid.

"But Mother-" I began, but was quickly silenced with a sharp slap across my face. I fell to my knees from the blow and only barely staunched the cry that lingered just inside my lips, begging to be released.

"Silence!" he shouted. "Narcissa is not the head of this family. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Father," I replied, letting my head sink into another bow.

"She spent some time convincing me that a marriage between you and Potter would be most beneficial to our family, but that was before our Lord saw the image of you two together in this morning's paper. He could tell by the look in your eyes that you had switched loyalties, which as you know, is punishable by death," Lucius snarled.

My breath came in quick gasps and I felt extremely vulnerable as I realized my fate was at my father's mercy. Would he spare me, or leave me to Voldemort? Or would it be something in between? I didn't dare look up at him, into those cold, terrifying eyes.

"My only son," he sighed, almost sounding soft, but that shifted so quickly I wondered if I'd imagined it. "How could you betray me this way? How could you choose this boy who has soiled blood and who carries the mark of our Lord's enemy? You owe me an answer for this, Draco. You owe me an explanation as to why you're abandoning your family for this…_Gryffindor_," he hissed, spitting the name like it was poison on his tongue.

"I love him," I answered at last, my courage returning to me as I defended Harry, my Love. "And Tom Riddle is not my lord any longer."

I looked up then, in time to see Lucius' eyes widen, just in time to see the hex he threw at me before it hit me in the chest. This time I couldn't stop the scream, as pain laced through my body and all too soon my muscles reacted to the Cruciatus. "You know it is forbidden to speak that name. You know it is forbidden to lie with some one of impure blood, and you know it is forbidden to defy your own father, yet you do all these things without remorse."

"I love him," I repeated, this time in a choked cry. "I love him more than I love you."

The spell cut short and my body felt impossibly limp and tense all at once as the muscles spasmodically clenched and released. "I hope you love him more than your own precious neck," Lucius hissed, grabbing my collar and hoisting me into the air. "Because that is what this dalliance had cost you."

With that, my father pulled me along and out of the room. I was unable to fight, barely even able to keep up with his long, quick stride as he forced me down into the dungeons. My body shook with the aftereffects of the spell, the fear I felt for my own life and the terror I felt for Harry if they discovered him here. I prayed to the Gods that he'd Apparated away, but I knew, even as the thought crossed my mind, that running away didn't sound like a very Harry thing to do.

I groaned as my head and shoulder connected with hard stone as Lucius threw me in a cell. My father, I had to remind myself of who it was so willing to punish me, because he looked like my father, but didn't act like him at all. "I'm sure the Dark Lord will be very interested in seeing you when he wakes. You should rest until then. You'll need all the energy you can get if you wish to live through the torture I'm sure he has planned for you."

"Just because I love Harry more, doesn't mean I don't love you at all," I called after him, and his steps faltered for just a moment.

"It doesn't matter anymore, Draco," he sighed. "I tried to warn you after the last attack, tried to protect you, but you've forced my hand in this. You should have been more discrete," he chastised. He turned to face me then, his eyes holding less malice than before. "Remember who you are, Son," he whispered, his eyes flicking from my face to the ring I still wore on my finger, and then he was gone.

I glanced down, studying the ring, searching for some nuance I had missed before, and only then, when I thought of my Slytherin nature and Malfoy heritage, had I realized that Father hadn't taken my wand.

Author's note: Well, well, well. Isn't this a pickle?


	26. Harry: I'm Not Ready

Author's Note: Laurel's turn...let's see what she does with our poor Harry.

Chapter 26 – Harry – I'm not ready.

I closed my eyes and took comfort from the feel of the cold stone pressed hard against my back. In the darkness behind my eyelids I could almost pretend this wasn't happening. The coldness was starting to penetrate my bones as it had slowly been doing to my muscles, but I didn't care. All the same, I knew I couldn't sit here much longer; despite all the lies, Draco still needed me and I intended to be there for him.

I opened my eyes and it took a while for the objects around me to take shape in the dim light, but even then his hair stood out to me like it was emitting a light of its own. Draco was caged like an unloved pet; this was an entire world away from where we were only hours before in his room. I could tell that his head was hanging low and I wished I knew everything that was weighing on him; I needed to know why he couldn't hold his head up high. Was he ashamed, and if so, what had he done?

As I tried to reason everything out – his distance over the last few days, his secret keeping, and now his sudden appearance at Malfoy Manor where Voldemort resided – I couldn't help but think it all added up to some kind of betrayal. He loved me I was sure, but if I'd learned anything this year it was that even those who love you could betray you still. Nobody is perfect, I know that, but I really did think I could count on Draco. He had lied to me – I knew this, what I didn't know was how deep his lies ran.

"Are you hurt?" I asked him, breaking the silence around us. He snapped his head up and looked frantically around the room; he didn't know I'd been sitting here watching him.

"Harry!" he whispered fiercely into the seemingly empty room. "Oh, thank Merlin, you're safe! Where are you? Give me your hand." He pushed his thin arm between two bars and reached out as far as he could, but not towards me, I was sitting on the opposite side of the room.

His arm called to me, pulled me towards him in some way, and my heart lurched. I wouldn't leave him here, I wouldn't even consider it, but I did wonder if I could still trust him. With these lies sitting between us, how could I be sure he wouldn't hurt me?

In the end, it was my own shame that guided me towards him so he could feel my presence even if he couldn't see it. It had been shock at first and disorientation at my newly invisible state that had delayed my reaction to the altercation between Draco and his father. Even under the invisibility cloak I had never felt this removed from the rest of the world, I had always been able to see myself when others couldn't, but this – this was _different. _I couldn't even truly place myself in the room and I had no depth perception, but as I followed Lucius dragging his begging son through to the cell I now sat next to, it wasn't my disorientation that held me back. The truth was, I didn't even _try _to come between them and save Draco.

It's not that I didn't want to – I did, _desperately_, and I still do. Quite apart from the vulnerability I felt at having left my wand lost among Draco's bed sheets – if I had to name it I would say that it was my disbelief at the entire situation, and an unexpected questioning of my fiancé's motives that made me hesitate – a slip that had cost my lover his freedom and found him sitting in this damp, rotting cell.

His hand snaked up my arm, pulling me closer until we were pressed together with only the frozen metal bars between us. "How do I get you out of here?" I whispered; knowing I would need a wand to even attempt it. I tried to force my thoughts away from the confusion I felt at wanting to be as close to him and as far away from him as possible all at once.

"Don't worry about that, Harry," he whispered quickly; his words shocked me and my confusion deepened. "I've just realized that it's you," he added, sounding somewhat awed.

"You've just realized this?" I asked incredulously. "Who did you think I was?"

"No," he almost laughed, "I mean it's _you_, you're the one who has to kill him. That's why it didn't work last night. I had everything I needed but he wasn't here."

"You aren't making any sense," I murmured, "you were with Snape last night." As the words left my mouth realization flooded me – how stupid I was, he wasn't with Snape last night… the lies were coming out.

"I was, but not all night," he replied easily. He didn't even seem to realize that it _mattered _he'd been keeping things from me; his tone was almost excited at whatever it was he was trying to tell me. "I came here to kill him," he said, "I took some of the potion I gave to you and I intended to use it to sneak in and kill him. I was invisible and practically invincible, it was the perfect time, but he wasn't here. Now look at what happened when I came tonight to try again – _you've _taken the potion and he's tucked up in bed. This is your chance!"

His confession washed over me – he was trying to kill _Voldemort _but it didn't work because I was the Chosen One. I felt my guilt brushing up against me as I remembered I hadn't told him about the Prophecy – I didn't want to worry him, but in hindsight it might have been better if I had. "You want me to leave you here and go kill Voldemort instead?" I asked, hardly believing the words as they left my lips. How did he expect me to do that… with my bare hands?

"You'll never have a better opportunity than this," he insisted. His arm still gripped me tight as though he didn't intend to let go, but at the same time he was pushing me away from him.

"No," I stated firmly; my confusion was quickly turning into anger as the enormity of what he had tried to hide from me, coupled with the situation we were in now, hit me all at once. "Tell me howWe need to get you out of here." I drew my wand and shot a quick _Alohomora _at the lock; as I expected, it didn't work.

"Don't worry about me," he insisted. "You're wasting time! You need to go to the East Wing of the Manor-"

"Draco-"

"That's where he's sleeping – you can find it easily if you follow the corridor with the statue of Aunt Greselda on the left – she's the ugly witch with the eagle on her shoulder-"

"Draco-!"

"Eventually you'll come up to a door on the right with snakes carved into it-"

"DRACO!" I shouted, far too loud, and Draco's eyes widened at the sound. He pulled me roughly up against the bars closer to him and the metal pressed uncomfortably hard into my hip bone. He growled his disapproval but didn't say anything – I guessed he was afraid to make any more noise, but I wasn't. "I will _not _leave you here! You cannot expect me to-"

"_Shut up!_" he hissed. "Stay still. If you let them know you're here it will be worse for us _both. _No matter what happens you mustn't reveal yourself. Father didn't take my wand," Draco reached in to his jacket, "take it. Kill him."

"What are you talk-" I started to say, but I was silenced by the unmistakable sound of people approaching. I could hear them talking as they descended the stairs. I wrenched myself free from Draco's grip and sunk and Draco released his grip on me instantly and pushed me away, pointing me into the darkness of the furthest corner of the room. Draco waved his wand towards me as if begging me to take it, but I didn't dare; I was too scared for him.

"-upset with me. You know I had no choice. He wanted to see him immediately." The unmistakable cackle of Bellatrix Lestrange echoed off the walls and my heart anxiously constricted.

"You could have come to me first. I am your sister – he's your nephew!" Draco's mother, I guessed.

"I don't expect you to understand. I've seen you turning your back on him – _on me_. We've _all _noticed," Bellatrix replied scathingly; the comment came with a strong threatening undertone.

"Bella-"

"Regardless, it was not your place to inform our Lord. I would have done so myself if you hadn't interfered. You've made me look reluctant to serve him." Lucius Malfoy's voice joined those of Draco's mother and aunt and I wondered just how many were coming to see – or from the sounds of it,_ fetch_ – my boyfriend.

"You make yourself look weak all on your own, Luci," Bella snapped back, clearly mocking him.

"My name is _Lucius_ and you'll do well to remember-"

"Lucius!" Narcissa cut her husband off in warning. The three of them had paused in the hall and I wondered if they truly thought Draco couldn't hear every word they spoke.

"Go back up to your room, Cissa," Lucius spat back at his wife. "I will handle this."

"I will _not-_"

"Tut-tut," Bella interrupted with a singsong tone that made me shiver. "Keep your voice down darling brother and sister or the neighbours might start talking." It seemed she didn't give the others any time to respond as she swept into the dark room and over to where Draco looked up at her defiantly. "Oh little Draco, what a mess you've made for yourself," she cooed, and I saw him glare back at her.

"Draco," Lucius addressed him, speaking over Bellatrix as though he were trying to take control of the situation. "The Dark Lord has requested an audience with you. You are my son, but these decisions you have made for yourself will have consequences. I suggest you do everything he asks of you or you may pay most dearly."

His blond head had dropped once more and I saw for the first time that he was shaking. My heart leapt into my mouth and I couldn't breathe – Draco was in serious trouble, but I knew I wouldn't be in any position to help him if I revealed myself at the wrong time and got captured.

"Are you alright?" I heard Narcissa whisper gently to her only son.

"Yes, Mother," he replied, smiling gently at her. "I'm fine."

"I'm sorry-" she started to say, but he cut her off.

"No, no, don't say that," he said quickly, reaching out to grasp her hand. "You didn't know."

"Does _anybody _know you're here?" she asked him, and I saw Bellatrix step in closer, watching their short exchange of words.

"No, Mother, I never told anyone," he said, staring at her intently. "Not even Harry. He would _never _have let me come here _alone _if he knew what I was planning." There was something in his voice that stood out when he said this and I felt sure there was more meaning to those words than the others suspected.

She nodded and stepped back from the cell bars, turning as she did and sweeping her eyes across the room as though she was looking for something – or someone. The hairs on my neck stood up and I didn't dare move in case I was heard.

Lucius unlocked the door and pulled Draco out with a firm grip on his upper arm – he seemed keen to be the one to lead Draco to face the Dark Lord, while Bellatrix followed close behind. To my surprise – and dismay as I was eager to follow Draco closely, waiting for my chance to intervene – Narcissa waited behind. She glanced around the room again, looking over every corner and examining the floor; I held my breath. It was only a few seconds, but it felt much longer, before she slipped a delicate hand into the sleeve of her robe and removed a jewel-encrusted dagger.

"Goblin-made," she whispered, "very powerful." She bent down and placed the dagger silently on the floor before turning and hurrying after her family.

Draco's mother was so much more than she seemed.

After retrieving the dagger and slipping it inside the sleeve of the robes Draco had given me off his own back, I followed Narcissa to what must have been the Malfoy's own private ballroom. The room was gigantic with a stunningly intricate chandelier hanging from the ceiling, but it was otherwise empty. Several pairs of eyes turned to watch Narcissa enter as her footsteps resounded for all to hear. Panic shuddered through me as I realized that every movement made in this empty space echoed off the walls and ceiling.

Voldemort was standing on a raised platform in front of – at a glance – fifteen of his followers standing before him in a half circle. Lucius Malfoy was positioned off to the side with Draco still held tightly in his grip, I wanted to rush over to him but I was reluctant to move for fear of announcing my presence.

"Let him go," Voldemort ordered with a casual wave and Lucius released his son immediately. "Come, kneel before me," he instructed as though it were some kind of honour.

Every muscle in my body was tense with fear for my beloved and ready to move at a moment's notice should I need to. I saw Draco hesitate, but with a subtle nudge from his father that I was sure nobody else could have seen, Draco made his way over to Voldemort. I watched him move towards that madman and away from me with severe anxiety so, feeling like my lover was stepping too far for me to protect him if I needed to, I carefully made my way over, treading lightly to minimize the noise – except there wasn't any. Not a tap or even a shuffle of my feet.

Silence.

I began to move with less care.

Still silence.

This potion Draco had given me was amazing; I made a mental note to question him about it later.

"I will stand before you but I cannot kneel," Draco announced, and while I felt pride swell up in me at his courage, I could have hit him for being so brazen. It could cost him his life. "I am loyal to another now."

"You are loyal to another?" Voldemort's voice was tight. My breathing quickened as I imagined him deciding how best to make an example of his former servant and punish him for sleeping with the enemy.

"My heart belongs to Harry Potter," Draco declared boldly and I saw Lucius wince as he watched his only son throw his life away.

"You pledged your life to serve me," Voldemort reminded him, reaching out and taking Draco's left arm; he rolled up Draco's sleeve and pressed down on the tattoo I knew was there. "I own you."

Draco shrank away from the dark sorcerer clutching him and he cried out his pain in a sharp yell, his knees buckling under him as he nearly collapsed. I knew it was only sheer determination that kept him standing. I was almost convulsing with rage, but I forced myself to stay put. The dagger sat now invisible and feather light in my hand and I gripped it tightly. I imagined the best way to come up on the monster torturing the man I loved; I imagined where I would plunge the knife and how it might feel to finally kill the man who'd dictated so much of my young life.

"Did you forget?" he asked Draco, mocking him.

"No," Draco gasped, now free of his scaly grip, "I just don't care. I've always known the time I spent with Harry would cost me my life and it's a price I will pay gladly just to have been with him this short while."

My heart leapt into my mouth and choked me. I wanted to scream at him to stop being so stupid! _Stop telling him you're willing to die! Because I'm not willing – I'm not ready for you to die and I never will be!_

Voldemort just stared blankly at him; his head tilted slightly, just enough to convey his confusion to the truly observant. "You would die for him?" he hissed eventually, sounding disgusted at the notion.

"Harry is everything I never knew I always wanted," he replied, a small smile playing on his lips. My eyes were locked on to him and I would have thought his words sweet if I didn't know that they were slowly nailing his coffin shut. I shook my head – _never think of that again._

Voldemort stared.

"You don't understand, do you?" Draco asked, his words would have sounded teasing if they hadn't trembled out of his mouth. He knew I was here watching – how could I be anywhere else – but I wondered if he thought I would still be able to save him, save us both, from this psychopath and this room full of his deranged followers. "That's what makes you a monster," he continued and my eyes suddenly bore into the snake like face so many feared, watching to see his reaction – like a true monster, he did not react. "You don't understand love. I'm only sixteen and I have felt – I have _possessed _the greatest power on Earth; a magic _you _will never know because you're nothing but an hideous, evil bastard who will never-!"

_SMACK!_

The slap echoed through the room and even his Death Eaters flinched in surprise as Voldemort backhanded Draco across his perfect, pale cheek. Draco was knocked off his feet and onto the floor and I squeezed the dagger's handle in anger, but didn't move – I couldn't, I was frozen, still watching the scene unfold.

"You insolent little _brat_," Voldemort hissed, his rage bubbling to the surface. "Clearly you are not as clever as your father always boasts. You could have had _everything_, but instead you chose to throw it all away on an insignificant little boy who can offer you _nothing._"

"Insignificant?" Draco scoffed, not yet moving to get up. "How many times has he bested you now?"

Voldemort didn't reply, he simply pointed his wand and hexed Draco before I was able to stop him. "_Crucio!_" he shouted and Draco's body convulsed on the marble floor.

The time wasn't right yet, but I'd had enough. I wasn't about to stand and watch while my lover was tortured! I knew that curse and I remembered well how it felt to have my internal organs spasm and cramp in my chest; I couldn't stand knowing what Draco was going through. I gripped the dagger tightly in my fist and ran towards Voldemort, ready to open him up for the world to see, but I was stopped short as I almost ran into Wormtail skirting around the edge of the group like the rat he was.

Voldemort released Draco and watched him gasp for breath. I wanted to wrap him in my arms and take him away from this horror show. "You have no _respect, _Boy!" Voldemort declared and the rest of the room grunted in agreement. He bent down and reached out to Draco, pinching his jaw in one of his large hands and pulling him back to his feet. "How would you like to become a cautionary tale, young Malfoy?" Voldemort asked as though offering a young child a sweet. He pulled Draco's face so close to his own that for a second I thought he might kiss him.

Draco winced and tried to pull away from him, but Voldemort just held on tighter. I slipped carefully and unnoticed into the middle of the circle and I allowed myself to come within arms reach of Draco for the first time since I'd come into the ballroom.

"Harry Potter has been a thorn in my side since the day he was born," Voldemort mused, almost to himself before addressing Draco. "I had high hopes for you Draco, you're smart. I had hoped you would grow to be one of my most valuable followers, but now I have no choice; I'm going to have to kill you."

My heart constricted and I heard Draco's mother cry out in the background, but nobody in the room acknowledged her. I tested the weight of the dagger in my hand, moved it back and forth, slicing through the air; it felt comfortable in my grasp. I looked over Voldemort, taking my focus off Draco and concentrating on how I was going to do this. Where would I cut into him? Which move would kill him quickest? What would be the least challenging? I didn't want to have any trouble doing this; it needed to be swift and easy.

"My only dilemma is when," Voldemort continued as I silently assessed how best to bring about his demise. "Do I kill you now, as you so deserve for being a public disgrace to your family and your Lord? Or do I wait and lure Potter here with the hopes of a gallant rescue?" My ears pricked up as he said my name and I paid more attention to what he was saying. "That boy is disgustingly predictable," he added and I frowned; partly from annoyance at the insult, but partly because it was somewhat true. "He will rush in, unprepared and unfocused, hoping to save you just like he did for his traitor Godfather – and when he gets here, I will kill you both."

Voldemort had released Draco by now and his blond hair was hanging low, hiding his face as he stared at the ground. He looked deep in thought. _I will kill him before he can scar even one beautiful strand of that hair, _I thought, circling my enemy now; still sizing him up, still undecided about the best mode of attack.

"My Lord," I heard a familiar voice speak up and I turned to see Lucius Malfoy step up from behind his Lord. "I believe it would be most beneficial to keep the boy alive and use him to catch Potter."

"Do you now?" the Dark wizard mocked him. "Is that what you think?"

"Yes, my Lord." Lucius' voice was meek and softly spoken; I'd never seen him that way. It was almost as though Voldemort were about to kill him and not his son - as if he had beaten the elder Malfoy down to nothing and he had no strength left.

"Malfoy, when I want your opinion, I'll ask for it," Voldemort replied. "Remember that."

"Yes, my Lord." Lucius bowed and shrank back into the shadows behind his Lord once more, his gaze carefully averted.

Draco looked appalled and disappointed at the whole scene, but also rather surprised. I supposed he had never seen Lucius so submissive and weak before, particularly when the man had professed strength and Malfoy pride since the day Draco was born. My reaction to that scene was a little different, for some strange reason what I saw was not a weak man but a father who was losing his son. It was unexpected and almost sad to watch.

Voldemort must have noticed Draco's expression. "Yes, quite pathetic, isn't he?" he said, and Draco looked back at him. "Not much of a role model for you to look up to. I must confess, I had thought you might look up to _me_ for guidance, but alas that is not to be." He paused, obviously waiting for Draco to respond – he didn't and Voldemort continued. "What do you think then, young man? Would you like to die now, or shall we wait for your Gryffindor Saviour to arrive before we start?"

Those words spurred me back to my original objective and I began to circle the man once more, considering all I knew about killing a man – which was rather limited – and trying to decide what to do. There was the heart – protected by the ribs and no guarantee I would hit the right spot. I knew the general position, but nothing specific. I could hit a major artery, but it might take him a while to bleed out which could be enough time to hit back at us with a spell – unless….

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard Draco laugh softly; Voldemort looked surprised as well. "I really thought you were more clever than this, but you don't you get it at all, do you?" Draco chuckled bitterly. "I'm not scared of you anymore because I finally see how meaningless you are. You're nothing because Harry is everything – he is going to kill you, it's his destiny, and this time you won't survive it." As Draco spoke, I moved around behind Voldemort where I had more room – I'd made my decision, it seemed the easiest way. "I promise you that the last thing you'll see before you die will be the most spectacular green eyes-"

Voldemort drew his wand with a swish and Draco stopped mid-sentence, almost seeming to have lost the ability to speak. "I guess you've made your decision," Voldemort said. "Potter will come to me, but not to save you – no, he will come to _avenge _you!"

The whole room seemed to still and it was that one small word that propelled me into action. "_Avada-_" Voldemort started to say, but he didn't finish because in one swift and easy movement I stepped up behind him and sliced straight through his throat and all he could do was gurgle.

The second I pulled the dagger across his throat, I watched as Draco was covered in the sorcerer's blood and froze when I heard the Killing Curse completed from behind me. Barely a second of time passed in that room with all the Death Eaters looking stunned as their Master's throat opened up to them seemingly all on its own, but when I heard Lucius hiss _Avada Kedavra, _I knew exactly what had happened. From behind me, Lucius had attempted to rescue his son on his own, aiming his curse at Voldemort's back – where I stood invisible.

It felt like the Hogwarts Express had slammed directly into my back at full speed and all the air was pushed out of my lungs. Voldemort had fallen in front of me in a growing pool of blood and I soon followed him, unable to stop myself.

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't see. All I could hear was Draco screaming my name.

And I thought death was supposed to be peaceful.

Author's note: Wouldn't it be vile of us to drag this out so long, only to kill our hero?


	27. Draco: Fast and Furious

Author's Note: My turn...after this chapter is the epilogue.

It all happened so fast.

One moment I was laughing triumphantly in Voldemort's face, resolved to my fate. Some might speculate that a defenseless wizard being targeted for an Avada Kedavra curse wouldn't necessarily be triumphant, but I beg to differ. Blood rushed through my veins, power flooded over my skin and victory sang from my lips in the form of a mad cackle. Regardless of what happened to me in the moment – live or die, stand or fall – I was giving Harry the perfect opportunity to complete the task he was destined for. Voldemort was as good as dead and in that moment, I didn't care if he took me with him.

My own destiny seemed to unfold there before me. I was the catalyst, the bait, the distraction. I was the harbinger of Voldemort's downfall even if it meant mine as well. It might not be my hand to cast the spell that would finish him off, but I was one with Harry – mind, body and soul – and his hand was just as good as mine.

"I promise you, that the last thing you see before you die, will be the most spectacular green eyes," I told him, wishing I could close my eyes and see that emerald gaze one last time, but I wanted to stay alert. It seemed for the best, because Voldemort didn't let me finish my sentence before his wand was drawn with a swiftness that made my heart stutter.

The echoing marble room fell so silent that I thought for sure everyone would have been able to hear the violent thump of my heart as that yew wand leveled and pointed at my face.

They say life flashes before your eyes in the moment just before death, and I was no exception. My thoughts filled with the many mistakes I had made throughout my short life and for the first time, I was forced to wonder where I would end up after this. I flicked my tongue out to wet my drying lips and suddenly everything shifted and my mind was filled with images of Harry instead. Perhaps I wasn't so terrible if someone like Harry could love me. And even if I doubted everything in the world, I would never doubt that.

Harry Potter was mine, as I was his and I would take that knowledge to the grave and be content with it.

The word 'Avada', when it fled that snake-like mouth, sounded like funeral bells. I closed my eyes, held my head high, and waited for the end, but all I heard was a sickening gurgle before hot liquid sprayed across my flesh.

My eyes flared wide, hindered by whatever it was that covered me and I made wide, swiping motions with my hands, trying to clear it away. It only seemed to smear, however, but it didn't take me long to figure out what it was.

Blood.

It wasn't mine though, and I felt no pain. It was Voldemort's. There was a wide gash across his throat that gaped open like a ruined red mouth. He made a horrid noise as the light fled from that luminous gaze and the darkest wizard of our time fell to his knees at my feet.

From that point on it was like someone hit a vibrating drum and with every beat came a frantic scream. The first was mine as I looked up to see a very visible Harry collapsing on top of the now prone and fully dispatched Dark Lord. I didn't know what was going on, but his light seemed to be failing too.

I ran to him, pulling the raven-haired savior into my lap. "Harry!" I shrieked, unable to help the shrill echo of my voice in that blasted marble hall.

"Harry! Wake up! You can't die, not now. You've done it. You've ended the war," I sobbed. His face was streaked with blood and I prayed to Merlin it wasn't his own. Despite my pleas, his eyes remained obstinately closed, his breathing so shallow I couldn't hear it.

"You!" a familiar voice screamed from too close. "This is all your fault!"

I looked up in time to see my Aunt Bella, her wand raised and quivering with rage. Not by Voldemort's hand then, but by my own flesh and blood. Somehow that seemed fitting. My entire life they drilled into me the importance of blood and family and obligation and here, at the biggest crossroads of my life, I would be cast down by the very same people who were supposed to protect me. I suppose I let them down and now they were merely returning the favor.

Only I wasn't defenseless. I still had my wand. When Harry appeared outside my cell, I'd nearly forgotten. I drew it swiftly, ready to cast my Aunt back into the hell she belonged, but I wasn't fast enough.

"Crucio!" she screamed, her voice ringing through the room like a death knell.

I screamed along with her, my body tensing and convulsing and filling to the brim with agony. Still she held it, sending wave after wave of pain coursing through my body as I writhed and seized beside Harry's limp body and Voldemort's corpse.

"Enough!" another voice joined in, and the pain halted abruptly as my mother, tall, beautiful and glowing like an albino peacock, disarmed her own sister. She glared down into the dark eyes of her kin and narrowed her own in disgust. "You'll never touch a hair on my son's head ever again. Do you hear me, Bella?"

The question sounded more like a feral snarl and she kept her wand poised and locked on Bellatrix. I glanced away to see my father in a similar stance with several other Death Eaters who looked anxious to get revenge for their fallen Lord. I blinked as I watched his possessive protection of me, both parents backing closer to me so that they could guard my body. Had it not been for Harry's state, I would have felt warm.

Still, they were outnumbered, and I couldn't just lie there and weep over Harry while they fought to protect me. So, I stood, wand in hand, and faced the approaching challengers.

"Use the ring," my father hissed. "Grab Potter and get out of here."

The demand was logical and judging by his stone-set brow, he was obviously serious, but I just shook my head. "I'm not leaving you."

A look of pride mixed with annoyance marred his haughty features for a moment before he nodded curtly and turned back to face the approaching Death Eaters. Curses flew around the room, bouncing off of the marble walls and causing quaking tremors throughout the hall. Father was hit in the knee, causing him to fall, but his wand stayed trained on our attackers. Mother had her hands full with Bella, who was an excellent duelist and not afraid to fight dirty. Her icy robes were scorched in places and I just knew her pale flesh was marred as well.

We were running out of time, and still Harry remained unmoving on the floor. I didn't know what to do or who to concentrate on as the Death Eaters closed in on us.

Then I looked up.

With a smug grin I aimed at the ceiling, taking out the elaborate and heavy chandelier and sending it crashing down on our attackers. Lucius whooped with glee, possibly the first time I'd ever heard such a noise from his snobbish mouth. All but Bellatrix and one other were either pinned, knocked out or killed in the crash and they were easily subdued by the three of us.

After that, it all became a blur. I let Father and Mother handle our prisoners while I attended to Harry. His breathing was still shallow, but it was there and I tried to concentrate on that fact for the moment. I cast a cleaning charm, washing the blood away from both of us as I examined him. I still couldn't understand what had happened.

"I'm sorry, Draco," my father whispered, startling me out of my staring contest with Harry. I wagered that I was winning since Harry wouldn't open his eyes.

"It's not your fault," I replied automatically, but his hand on my shoulder told me otherwise.

"I didn't know he was there. I was trying to save you," he said and that hectic moment returned to my mind in slow motion. There was more than one voice that had shouted out the killing curse, and even after Harry had slit Voldemort's throat, there had still been one voice to finish it. I thought I had imagined it, hearing the final word of the spell in my mind because I had expected to, but no. Harry's invisible body had been between Voldemort and my father, and Lucius had chosen that singular moment to prove his mettle.

"You hit him with the killing curse," I whispered, unbelieving.

"I'm afraid it seems that way. He just materialized after the curse left my wand, out of thin air," he rasped, his voice tinged with fear. No doubt he was thinking of all the ways the Ministry would punish him for killing the Boy Who Lived, but I had a different concern.

"But he's not dead," I pointed out.

"What?" Lucius replied, his head snapping in Harry's direction as his hand snaked out to cover Harry's heart. "His heart is still beating. He's alive."

"I need Snape!" I demanded, and my father showed no hesitation as he left my side and stalked swiftly from the room.

Mother and I moved Harry into my room, laying him out on my bed while I sat anxiously beside him. She was going to have to notify the Ministry of what took place here soon, and we didn't want Harry disturbed in the process.

It wasn't long before my father arrived with both Snape and Dumbledore in tow. I expected a lecture from the old man, but he just gave me a soft look and asked how Harry had been attacked. I explained everything I could piece together and he nodded sagely and looked Harry over.

"Experimental potions shouldn't be given to children, Severus," he chided without glancing back at the man.

Snape narrowed his eyes and returned the glare; only it wasn't directed at the Headmaster, but at me. I looked sheepishly away. It hadn't been my intention for Harry to take the potion, but I couldn't go back in time and change it either. At least Voldemort was dead, and Harry was still alive.

If he would just wake up.

"You say he had swallowed the entire bottle's worth?" Snape asked and I nodded.

"Nearly," I replied. "I had taken some the night before."

"It likely saved his life," Dumbledore mused.

At my confused look, my godfather explained. "Because of the nature of the potion, for all intents and purposes, Harry didn't exist." The befuddlement never faded from my face, and Severus gave an irritated sigh and continued. "The potion didn't make him invisible like I told you," he began.

"Then why did you tell me that?" I interrupted with a frown.

"To save myself this lengthy explanation," he bit back. "As I was saying, the potion didn't make him invisible. It put him just a half second into the future, so that to everyone around him, he didn't exist yet. Where his footsteps fell, there was no sound, because to you, they hadn't been there yet, and by the time anyone would have seen or heard him, Harry was already ahead of them again."

I blinked, not sure I completely grasped the concept. "So, that's how he was able to act so quickly when Voldemort was going to kill me?"

I hadn't given it lots of thought before, but it made sense now. How else could Harry have drug a blade across Voldemort's throat in the time it would have taken him to finish the curse?

"Very good, Draco," Dumbledore praised. "Your father's curse merely countered the effects of the potion, ripping Harry rather abruptly into the present. But I don't think the curse actually touched him."

"So, he's just asleep?" I hoped aloud.

"It would seem the force from a spell as powerful as the killing curse was enough to knock Harry unconscious, however, to be on the safe side, I'm going to suggest Madam Pomfrey examine him at once." He turned to face my mother now that my concerns were quelled and she bowed her head slightly in respect. "Lady Malfoy, if it is alright with you, I'd rather not move Harry just yet. Would it be acceptable to bring Poppy here?"

"Of course, Headmaster," mother replied.

I tuned them out, listening instead to the rhythmic sound of Harry's breathing. He would wake up, and if in a moment of panic I had doubted that, I was confident now. Harry would wake up and those brilliant green eyes would lock onto mine and we would be together. No more Voldemort, no more Malfoy obligations, no more fair-weather friends. Just the two of us. "I love you, Harry," I sighed as I ran my fingers through his ebony locks, paying no mind when the rest of our guests filed out of the room.

Harry was still wearing my robes, which were a little long and a bit tight in the chest, but he was still the most beautiful man I knew. He looked so peaceful lying there, and then those green eyes snapped open and his hand reached out and pulled me to him. Before I could give a startled shout, his lips were on mine, devouring me and I decided not to protest.

He tasted the same, felt the same, moaned the same, but something felt different and it took me a moment to realize what it was. Freedom. No longer did I have to hide my feelings for this man from anyone and we could be together without consequence.

"I thought they'd never leave," he sighed when we broke apart for air.

"How long have you been awake?" I demanded, pouting petulantly.

"Since somewhere around the explanation of my not existing," he replied. "I'm just not ready to have them all make a big fuss over me yet."

"So you thought you'd just scare the hell out of me?" I offered.

"You deserve at least that for what you did," he chastised seriously. "I should be furious with you, Draco. You lied to me, you set me up in a room full of Death Eaters, you made me watch Voldemort attack you, Draco. I don't even know what I would have done if he'd succeeded in killing you."

I could tell Harry was angry, and rightfully so, but I couldn't contain the smile wanting to burst through. I loved him, and he was fine and I was fine and everything worked out for the best. "But he didn't," I pointed out. "And he's gone and we're together."

Harry rolled his eyes and plopped back down on his pillow, rubbing his forehead in slow circles. "I think I now know how Hermione feels when I use that logic on her," he grumbled.

I climbed into bed with him, curling around his body as he allowed me to snuggle close. "I'll try to be less sneaky," I promised.

Harry made a sound like a scoffing laugh and wound his arm around my waist, pulling me closer until my head rested on his chest. I could feel his hot breath puffing into my hair and I had never been so content. "You were really brave out there, Draco." The words caught me off guard and I merely shrugged.

"I could just feel everything clicking into place. It was like I knew that this was the way it was supposed to be, that this was the plan destiny had set out for us and we were just moving pieces," I whispered.

"You sound like Ron, comparing life to chess," Harry teased.

I frowned and glanced up at him. "If you ever equate me to a Weasley again, I'll be forced to divorce you, no matter how delectable your arse is."

"You think my arse is delectable?" Harry asked, his dark eyebrows disappearing into his fringe.

"That wasn't the point you were supposed to come away with, Harry," I chastised.

"I've been known to have selective hearing. Besides, you'd have to marry be before you could divorce me," he pointed out wisely.

"I suppose you're right," I muttered, pretending to be greatly put upon.

"Do you think we're too young to get married?" Harry asked after silence drifted between us and we'd gone back to just being together.

"Probably," I replied, my fingers drawing dirty shapes against his abdomen. "We could just have a long engagement," I suggested. "With lots of sex."

"Well, I assumed there would be lots of sex either way," Harry countered.

"Obviously."

We laughed, light and free of burden. I couldn't recall ever feeling this way. Harry knew all my secrets, all my mistakes, all my scars and he accepted me as I was. My parents had given their blessing, no matter how reluctantly, and even if they revoked it, I had a nice scroll of parchment that would keep them from stripping me of my title and inheritance.

But best of all, Voldemort was dead and Harry and I weren't. The thought gave a boisterous sound to my laughter as I attempted to straddle and snog my fiancé through fits of delirious sniggering.

"Well, he certainly seems alright to me," called a familiar voice from the doorway. I shifted to Harry's side and futilely tried to hide the grin that seemed to want to split my face in two.

"I agree, Poppy," Dumbledore replied from beside her. "All the same, I'd like a thorough exam performed since experimental magic was involved."

"Of course, Albus," Madam Pomfrey replied and made her way over to Harry's bedside.

While the school's mediwitch performed various incantations over Harry's body, each seeming to pull a different colored light from somewhere on the Gryffindor's person, Harry turned to me and offered a soft smile. "I never expected your room to look like this."

"What did you expect, exactly? Dark wood and green hangings?" I asked.

Harry merely shrugged and flushed. "I like it. It's…soft," he replied.

I looked around my childhood bedroom and tried to see it with new eyes. It had always looked like this. Even when I was but a toddler the decorations were still ornate and expensive, only instead of a sleigh bed made from exotic diamond willow, I had a burl wood crib.

"I suppose," I conceded. "I do spend most of my time here when I'm at the manor. It feels like home to me."

"To me too," Harry said and I took a moment to bask in his warm, emerald gaze while the words caressed me deeper than he hands ever had. Just because Voldemort was dead didn't mean that trouble was completely behind us, but it did mean that whatever came our way, we could deal with it.

"Perhaps you should stay here this summer," I suggested.

"Perhaps," Harry answered with a grin that seemed to say 'it would be my pleasure' – or at least that's how I took it.

"As I suspected, Mr. Potter seems to be just fine," Madam Pomfrey announced and we all seemed to sigh with relief. "I'd like him to remain in bed for the rest of the day, but I don't suspect that will be a problem."

I laughed and shook my head. "No, Ma'am. I see no problems with that at all. Do you, Harry?"

"None whatsoever," he chirped, his gaze already turning heated.

Madam Pomfrey gave a mighty huff and left the room, followed closely by Dumbledore and my parents, whom I hadn't seen standing there until just then.

"So, what kinds of things should we do while you're stuck in bed?" I asked.

"Exploding Snap?" Harry offered, a lascivious grin on his lovely face.

"Exploding will certainly be involved," I purred before attacking my fiancé's perfect lips and silky skin.

The following weeks were a haze of activity. Between Harry and I we must have recounted the story of Voldemort's last moments over a thousand times. It actually seemed a blessing when With Weekly, the Daily Prophet and three other periodicals all asked for interviews. We figured that should help cut down the amount of times we would have to repeat ourselves.

Alas, we were grossly mistaken.

Still, throughout all the hubbub, Harry and I managed to remain calm despite being pulled in a million directions. After the interviews and the media frenzy came exams. Harry thought we should be exempt from them given that we saved the world and all, but Dumbledore didn't agree. In fact, I had a theory that they made our exams more difficult than everyone else's, but Snape assured me I was just being a paranoid brat.

I still laughed when Harry, Weasley and Granger griped about the Potions Master and his surly attitude. They never would know him like I did. When I asked him about the favors I owed him, he told me simply that most of them were null because I killed the Dark Lord, but for his last, he explained that I would fulfill it so long as I didn't botch things with Potter the way I botched everything else. I told him that I would do my best.

The Gryffindors won the final Quidditch game, and yet again took the House Cup, but I couldn't muster up the annoyance I felt about it in years before. At least, not until Weasley decided to write a song about it. I'm not sure I'll ever like him, but so long as Harry does, I'll willingly tolerate his ginger presence. Granger on the other hand could grow on me. She's clever enough and even I have to admit that she's a whiz at Charms. When I look at the two of Harry's best friends, it's perfectly clear that I had it all wrong when it came to blood feuds. The Weasley family are purebloods and look at what dolts they are.

On the last day of the year, as we boarded the Hogwarts Express, I felt a sense of completion while at the same time, I could almost physically see the many doors that opened up before us. And hand in hand with Harry, none of those doors seemed terribly ominous.

Author's Note: It's almost at a close...


	28. Harry: Epilogue

Author's Note: Laurel got to write the epilogue...since I got to throw her the first chapter. Seems fair, yeah? Who knew I was capable of being magnanimous?

Epilogue – Harry – 18 months later

I couldn't believe it, even as I read the words in front of me over again. _Accepted. _"Congratulations, Mr. Potter. You've been _accepted _into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement Auror Training Program," I read aloud; finally it began to feel real_. _I was excited. Thrilled. But, it was just another cherry because I had my cake already.

Speaking of my cake, I was already five minutes late to meet him at Madam Malkins. I checked my watch again – make that six minutes late – and I grabbed my coat from the hall closet. Draco and I had moved into our new flat only three weeks ago after we graduated from Hogwarts. I was happy staying at Malfoy Manor, but I still felt uncomfortable with his parents so close by. They had accepted our relationship, and blessed our impending union, but I still felt like they would have preferred Draco to end up with a pretty, pureblood witch who could provide them with an heir in the usual fashion. Instead, Lucius Malfoy had Snape looking into the development of a potion that would allow my DNA to merge with Draco's so that we might be able to provide a legitimate Malfoy heir through surrogacy. Personally, I would have preferred to discuss this with Draco alone, to make our _own _decision on the matter of children.

I supposed it was just as Mrs. Weasley said, 'you don't just marry your partner, Harry, you marry their family too.'

Despite being just as eager to wed Draco as I had been before I killed Voldemort, we talked about it and decided to wait. It would have been difficult to be married while still at Hogwarts and Draco and I had enough media attention to deal with already after the fall of Lord Voldemort.

I smiled as I relived some of my favourite memories of the last twenty months, I valued every second I got with Draco. I swallowed the last of my pumpkin juice and Apparated straight out of my kitchen to the usual spot behind a large dumpster near the Leaky Cauldron.

The world hadn't even stopped spinning when I suddenly found myself Silenced and blindfolded. I heard someone whisper a spell and ropes wound themselves tightly around my wrists and ankles. _Fuck._

I'd been caught. There were a number of Death Eaters still on the loose, even now, more than a year later, and they were all gunning for me. A few times I'd been put under strict surveillance when rumours arose about an imminent attack, but nothing ever came of it, and it was extremely frustrating being watched all the time. For the last ten months I had ignored all rumours and blatantly refused to be babysat. I had never felt safer, I was always with Draco, or Hermione and Ron, or the entire Weasley clan, Remus and Tonks – who were expecting their first child; there was nothing to worry about.

Or perhaps there was. I struggled against my bindings and tried to scream. Nothing helped.

Several pairs of hands restrained me and only seconds passed before I felt the familiar hook behind my navel. They were Apparating me somewhere…loud?

Music blasted around me and I became even more disoriented. Where had they taken me? Were they going to kill me in a nightclub?

I was unceremoniously dumped on the floor and I heard someone grunt a protest, but surely it wasn't about my treatment. After all, what were a few bruises if they were going to murder me? I began to struggle in vain, writhing pathetically on the floor, and soon strong, gentle hands began to caress me. Instant confusion followed. Strong, gentle hands caressing my back and thighs?

"So this is the groom, is it?" a deep voice questioned. Someone must have confirmed it because he seemed pleased. "Excellent," he said. His hands moved down to rub circles around my arse and I started to think that maybe they were going to fuck me before they killed me. _Please no,_ I silently begged.

"Where's the other groom?" a second man questioned. "I hope he's as hot as this one."

Those words struck me harder than anything else because I knew then that they had Draco here too. I thrashed violently on the floor, hoping to strike at whoever had me here, hoping to loosen these damn ropes, hoping someone would hear me scream and cry my pain at the prospect of Draco getting hurt again. I'd sworn to myself it would never happen under my watch.

"Whoa, calm down, gorgeous," the man exclaimed, my sudden movements must have shocked him. "I'm not going to hurt you, and Bobby isn't going to touch your man unless he wants to be touched." I struck again, trying to kick this man.

_Fuck you,_ I thought. _Fuck you. Don't even look at him!_

"What is going on!" I heard someone shriek and I could have cried. I'd know that shriek anywhere!

Very quickly my restraints and blindfold were dispatched and I saw the worried and angry chocolate brown eyes of Hermione Granger. "Hermione!" I gasped, stepping towards her protectively as I took in my surroundings.

Hermione. A naked man – correction, _two _very hot, muscled naked men. Ron looking worried and sheepish behind Hermione. The Weasley brothers, and several blokes from Hogwarts in the background gratefully admiring about six either naked or scantily clad women.

Forgive my language but, "what the fuck?"

"It was the twins' idea, they did it for Lee when he married a few months ago and they said it was great!" Ron choked out, looking a bit ill. "They kidnapped him and brought him to their warehouse." Ron gestured to the room they were in; Weasley's Wizard Wheezes warehouse. "They decked it out for strip shows and there's a bar running all night. They said Lee had a ball! I thought you would too."

"What!" I gaped, still unsure about what this was. Kidnapped by my friends and surprised with strippers? And with a strike of intelligence I realised. "My bachelor party."

"Remus came to get me when he realised what Ron had planned - you're an idiot by the way, Ron, Harry could have killed you! Don't you realise what he would have thought was happening!" she shouted as Ron's face became more and more like a shiny red tomato. "He would have assumed you were Death Eaters! He would have thought you planned to kill him! And Draco-!"

"Draco?" I blurted, suddenly getting over my complete surprise to remember he was here with me somewhere. I scanned the room and found him blindfolded, bound, silenced, and being molested by a very sexy, naked stripper. "Get your fucking hands _off _him?" I snarled and the stripper stepped back immediately.

I freed a very relieved and abused looking Draco who launched himself into his favourite place, my arms, and stayed there. I shot a glare at the stripper who looked rather disappointed. "I _hate _your friends," Draco grumbled, and I chuckled while stroking his hair.

"Me too," I sighed, kissing his neck.

"Mate, I'm so sorry," Ron said sheepishly, as he came over to us. "Fred and George were telling me all about Lee's bucks night and it sounded brilliant! I thought it'd be great fun, I'm so sorry if I scared you."

"Being kidnapped is _not _fun," I growled. "Get me a Firewhiskey-" Draco made a noise. "-make that _two _Firewhiskeys, and tell your strippers to keep their hands off my future husband, and all will be forgiven."

I took Draco's hand and led him into the fray. We were greeted by the others with excited cheers, whoops, and jeers.

"Aye! Harry!" Oliver Wood cried out as he fondled a pair of particularly pert breasts. "Relinquishing your freedom, eh?" As I remembered it Oliver's long-term girlfriend was about to deliver their first child together; I cringed as he leaned in to suck at the blonde's nipple. Disgusting.

"Harry! Malfoy!" Seamus pushed between Draco and I and flung an arm around each of our shoulders. "About fucking time! So when are you going to make an honest man out of Malfoy?"

Dean, who wasn't far behind, scoffed in the background; I glared at him. "The wedding is in six weeks," I answered. "We were supposed to be going in for our final fitting of the wedding robes today, but I suppose that will have to wait until tomorrow."

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Seamus commented, calling over a blushing waitress to provide us with drinks. "Tomorrow you shall be nursing an extremely nasty hangover!"

I took the drink and, after a few very short conversations and acknowledgement of several congratulations and suggestive comments, finally managed to escape to a private table with Draco.

"Are you alright?" I asked him. "If you don't want to stay, we can sneak off."

He shook his head. "No, this is nice. We're supposed to have a bucks night anyway. It's traditional."

"You think this is nice?" I laughed, hardly believing it, and Draco joined in.

"No, you're right, this is bloody awful, but it's still traditional," he replied. "We should stay at least for a little while."

Hermione, who had evidently decided to stay for the evening, and Ron were quick to join us. The two of them were still as deeply in love as ever and my friendship with them grew stronger every day, but the scars of their betrayal were still present. It was most obvious in the strained moments when we talked about our time apart and in the desperate apologies of my friends each time they upset me. It was as though they were expecting me to kick them to the curb any day now.

"I'm truly sorry, guys," Ron said again, and inwardly I groaned. Draco could tell exactly how I was feeling, he understood me completely, and he immediately smoothed it over.

"You're an idiot, Weasley," Draco said, then casually took a sip of his whiskey. We had two drinks each now as Ron had brought with him our promised beverages. "Nobody expects anything less of you really."

Ron turned a bit pink, but didn't say any more about it. I was eager to change the subject. "How is Tuck going?" I asked. Ginny had birthed a very healthy little boy who for some reason she named Tucker; he celebrated his first birthday the weekend before and Hermione and Ron had attended.

While things with Ginny were very much 'water under the bridge' and I had forgiven her for manipulating me and orchestrating my social isolation from Gryffindor – because, after all, I may have never fallen for Draco if she hadn't – she still declined to speak to me. It had annoyed me greatly at first that she continued to behave like I had ruined her life, but now I simply felt sorry for her. Her family loved her only because she was family, none of them really liked who she was, and little Tuck, who I had spent some time with when Nott came to visit Draco, was the only good part of her.

Nott and Draco had never been particularly close at Hogwarts, but their mutual displacement in the Weasley family had them striking up a belated friendship. Nott had continued with us at Hogwarts and was permitted weekends at the Burrow to be with Ginny and Tuck. Ginny had left school as soon as she had begun to show her pregnancy. They were married quietly as soon as Ginny turned sixteen and it was legal for her to do so. The bonding magic was performed without ceremony with only the Bonder, Ginny's parents, and Nott's father present.

Nott's friendship with Draco didn't extend to me. We were friendly, but if he dropped around and Draco wasn't home, he wouldn't stay. Since the war ended, many who were destined to join Voldemort – like Nott – simply slipped back into a normal life, and while I believe Nott was glad Voldemort could not force him down the unpleasant path of servitude, befriending me was still too much of a traitorous act. I didn't mind him though, he loved his son and for that I respected him greatly; he was an excellent father.

"He's great!" Ron gushed, very proud of his nephew. "He loved the party. Fred and George put on a real big bash for him, it's a shame you couldn't make it."

I nodded. I had chosen not to be there; one day I hoped things might be different, but I wasn't about to ruin Tuck's first birthday for everybody by showing up. Ginny would have made a scene if I had and it would have only ended in tears.

"He's a real mover and a shaker," Hermione added, her eyes lighting up. I smiled; she will make an excellent mother one day. Maybe even soon. It was only two weeks ago that Ron had proudly showed me a beautiful diamond ring, bashfully seeking my opinion and my approval, that he planned to give Hermione in a few months time on her birthday. If he could wait that long, I secretly believed he might get too excited and just blurt it out without meaning to. Part of me hoped it would happen that way, it would be 'Ron Weasley' all over if it did. "Tuck is right into everything now, Ginny has had to lock everything in cupboards or bring it all up high just so he won't hurt himself."

I smiled. I had noticed Ron's parents' house baby proofed when I was last invited to dinner a few weeks ago, and I had gone straight home and done the same to our living room for when Tucker came to visit again.

"Theo should be coming tonight actually," Ron commented with a chuckle. "I think he's going to be here a little late, he wants to put Tuck to bed first. He reckons he doesn't sleep right if he doesn't read him his favourite story. Talk about having Daddy wrapped around his cute little finger."

"Oh please, that boy has his Daddy, all his uncles, his grandparents, and you two-" Hermione nodded to Draco and I "-wrapped around his cute little finger. He is well looked after."

Everybody laughed, but only because it was true.

By the time Ron got up to make his speech, Theo had arrived and Fred and Seamus had each disappeared with two of the female strippers. Most of the other blokes had lost count of their drinks and were generously tipping the girls who had shown me a whole new way of using magic. It was very erotic and I was keen to learn some of it myself to entertain Draco with on our honeymoon.

"May I have your attention for just a few seconds," Ron requested, amplifying his voice to reach around the room. The music has been turned low and the girls had stopped dancing. "Apparently I'm making this speech for Nott as well who is standing next to Draco in a few weeks time when he marries my best friend, so thanks for that brother. I now know you have always got my back when it comes to public speaking." Ron nodded to Nott who raised his glass and the whole room cheered. "If someone had told me in first year that Harry would one day be marrying Draco Malfoy I would have hexed them into oblivion. But then in first year I also thought that one day I would marry Gabriella Harvey, the Captain of the Chudley Cannons, and I would _never _have believed that I would find someone leagues better than her who miraculously would love me back." Ron winked to Hermione who blushed, then glared at a few men who made comments about her even being allowed here.

"Harry is probably the best man I know and better than I could ever hope to be. I am blessed to be his best friend and for him to love me and forgive me of all my faults. Draco Malfoy is a very lucky man, but from what I have seen of him, he is worthy and I know he will take the very best care of my mate." Ron raised his glass. "To Harry and Draco!"

The room cheered. "To Harry and Draco!" Everybody drank.

Ron came over to join us and I didn't know what to say to him. I thought his speech was beautiful and very sincere. He had been extremely hard on himself for our rift and even though it had been nearly two years ago, he hadn't forgiven himself. "Thanks, man," I said eventually, pulling him into a hug. "One day you are going to realise that it doesn't help that you are still punishing yourself for what happened in sixth year. I forgave you a long time ago and when you stand up next to me at my wedding as my best man, I don't want you to bring your past mistakes with you. Leave them behind with your sixteen year old self, where they belong." Ron nodded, looking a little tipsy and a little emotional. "Promise?"

"I promise," he agreed and we hugged again.

"Oi, what's with all this hugging?" Draco teased, pinching my bum. "Where's my action?"

"I'll leave you to it," Ron coughed and was quick to disappear.

"Finally a moment alone with you," I sighed, stealing a small kiss. I hadn't had one since I rescued him from his binds. "I have something to tell you. I want you to know first, before anyone else."

"Merlin," he whispered in awe, "you're pregnant?" He cracked a smile and I punched him lightly in the arm.

"Shut up, this is exciting and I want to tell you!"

"So tell me already!"

"I got into the Auror Program!" I exclaimed with a little bounce and Draco's face lit up.

"My little law enforcer!" he gushed. His arms looped around my waist and he peppered my face with kisses. "Congratulations! I knew they'd accept you. How could they not?"

"I know, but still," I smiled modestly.

"I have news for you, too," he grinned. "I went to see Snape this morning and he has agreed to take me on as his apprentice. He'll still be teaching full time, but he will work with me on Saturday mornings, during school breaks, and he has found me a job in an apothecary for two days a week while I study."

Pride burst like fireworks in my chest. This was exactly what Draco had hoped for. Snape had given him a glowing recommendation to Graides, Britain's top wizarding tertiary learning institution, and he had received his acceptance letter only a few days ago. He had mentioned briefly how much he would like to work with Snape while he studied, and it seemed as though his godfather had come through for him. But I knew Snape would never have agreed if he didn't think Draco was up to the task, and I knew he was.

"My little Potions Master," I whispered, repeating his words to me. I leaned in and touched the tip of my nose with his. "My beautiful, clever soon-to-be-husband," I said and he chuckled. I tilted my chin and he tilted to match me and our lips met in a tender kiss. I never tired of his soft pink lips, I never failed to find new delight in the way he tasted and the way he loved to suck on my bottom lip. It seemed with each kiss he drew me deeper into his heart and I drew him deeper into mine.

"Get out of it, guys!" Theo protested and we pulled apart. "Quit with all the lovey dovey shit, its time to have some fun!"

Theo pulled Draco and I over to two matching chairs sitting in the middle of the parted crowd. My insides immediately clenched. I looked ominously over at Draco who seemed to look more pale than usual. We both knew what was coming.

We were sat down and again we were both blindfolded. Then the music started. It was a recording of a cheesy, burlesque, stripper tune, one your body seemed to naturally want to swing your hips and grind into. I was terrified.

I felt the presence of someone come close to me and then familiar strong, gentle hands gripped my wrists and placed my hands on the gyrating hips of a very naked man. I just knew that this man's cock would be swinging seductively in front of my face and I felt a little ill. I heard hoots and laughs from the crowd and uncomfortable whimpers from my fiancé. He must have been getting the same treatment. I leaned back as far as I could away from the swinging dick, but the man just seemed to get closer. His hands moved my hands around his arse and as soon as he freed them, obviously hoping I'd keep rubbing of my own accord, I pulled away. He reclaimed my hands and continued the rubbing. He let me go and I pulled away. We continued this game until Draco ripped his blindfold off in huff.

Theo protested at Draco 'ruining the show' and Draco said something nobody was expecting. "I want a show I can enjoy with Harry," he announced, getting up and moving his chair over to me. "Off," he said to my stripper. "Give us a show and dance together!"

The display that followed was much more to my taste. I was able to cling to Draco when their cocks got too close, but was very much enjoying the men when they teased one another. They shimmied away to the music, bopping and grinding into each other, sometimes into us and sometimes into the crowd. At one stage a very drunk Dean got sandwiched between the two men and was effectively cocked on both sides.

My own cock was definitely enjoying the show. It came up for a look early on in the piece and didn't die down. By the closing bars of the last song I was squeezing Draco's thigh so tightly I must have cut off his circulation. Silently I was telling him, _we need to leave NOW,_ and apparently he got the message.

"Thanks for a good night, Weasley," Draco called out to Ron. "Next time just send an invite, you don't need to kidnap us!"

"You're leaving?" he asked, a little surprised. It seemed he had just ordered us all a new round of drinks.

"I think its time we did," I answered and Draco nodded, literally pulling me towards the door.

"But we have a few more games planned and it's only just past midnight!" George added.

"Look boys, I need to go home and fuck Harry's brains out, so are you going to let us go or am I going to have to hurt you?" Draco asked in a deadpan tone. I think my face turned purple.

"Go. Please," George conceded and Ron just looked horrified and scurried away.

All things considered it had been a good party. My arrival wasn't fun and the strippers…well, they served their purpose – humiliate the grooms. But I supposed, ultimately, bachelor parties weren't exactly for the bachelor, but for the enjoyment of all their sadistic friends. I should be grateful I'm being allowed home rather than being dumped drunk, naked, and abused on the front lawn of Hogwarts.

Instead, I'm much preferably being dumped by my fiancé, naked and a little tipsy, on to our bed in preparation of my being abused.

Draco's hands and mouth were all over my body. He was frantic, but it didn't matter because tomorrow morning I knew he would seduce me slowly, taking care as he woke me from my slumber with gentle kisses. For now, my body burned as much as his seemed to, his flesh was as hot as mine and I knew neither of us would last very long. His hands pressed my hip into the mattress and his face was buried in my neck, marking it. My cock was fiercely hard, it had been paying attention to the two strippers at the party, but now it was screaming.

"Merlin, Draco," I whispered, urging him along and hoping he might take mercy on me and move his hand just a little over to grip my shaft. He did. His fingers caressed me lightly and I shivered.

He gripped me tightly and squeezed deliciously for a moment before loosening his grip and sweeping his circled fingers up and down my cock. A strike of pleasure shot up my spine and arched my back, a long deep moan escaped my throat and Draco knew I needed _more. _

"Talk to me, Harry," he whispered, and my lips curled into a lazy smile. He loved encouraging dirty talk out of me, particularly when I was so drunk with lust I'd say almost anything. "Tell me what you want."

I looked directly into his molten grey eyes and locked our gaze; sometimes I felt like simply the intensity of his stare was enough to bring me off. "I want you to fuck me," I told him, and he smiled.

"I fucked you last night," he reminded me, pinching my nipple tightly between his index finger and his thumb. "Isn't it my turn to be fucked?"

I nearly whined; I loved feeling Draco's muscles squeezing around my cock, but I didn't love it quite as much as being filled by him. There was something about the way he sank right into me that made me nearly explode every time. He knew this, and while he was content with both positions, he didn't want our sex life to be prescribed as 'top' and 'bottom'. "Tomorrow morning," I promised, although it sounded more like begging, "I'll fuck you until you can't walk, I promise, but tonight I need to feel you inside me."

I saw hesitation flick through his eyes, and I could tell he still wanted it to be me on top tonight; how could I deny him?

I hooked my leg around his and rolled us over so my body was draped over his and he made a noise of surprise. I wriggled down his body and as he opened his mouth to question me I licked a strip from the base of his cock to the tip, and all that he could do was moan. I took him slowly and teasingly into my mouth, licking and kissing and sucking on the tip, then working him all the way down my throat before starting again. Once I had him quivering, when I could feel his muscles clenching in his efforts to force his climax back, I relented.

"Baby," he gasped, once I'd come back up to claim a kiss, "I'm never going to last now." He still thought I expected him to be the one to enter me and not the other way around.

"I rather hope you don't, you have no idea how beautiful it is to see you come all over yourself while I fuck you, or how good it feels to have you clench around me," I whispered, and I could see him realise what I had planned since I placed the first kiss on the head of his beautiful member.

"I think I know exactly how that feels," he replied and he handed over my wand to prepare him.

I cast the spell to stretch and relax him and slick my cock and his entrance. Usually I would take the time to tease him with my fingers, but tonight I could wait no longer to feel him around me, and from the look on his face, neither could he. He lifted his hips for me and I lined myself up and pushed.

A deep guttural groan escaped his throat and I could tell immediately how much he had needed this. I felt pressure on all sides of me and it was like coming home. My beautiful lover, my soul mate, my future husband, lying beneath me, moaning for me, crying out for more, and my life was perfect in that moment. I knew as long as I had him, my life would always be perfect because there was nothing better than this, and no one better for me than him.

At his insistence I pulled myself from my awe at the sight of him and began to move, focusing not on myself, but on the small noises he made and the way he bucked against me. I found a smooth rhythm in and out of him and a fog of pleasure invaded my every cell. My sack smacked erotically against his tailbone and I couldn't stop the grunts that forced out of my mouth. Still, it wasn't enough, I needed to be close to him, to kiss him and feel his panting on my neck.

When I pulled out, he almost swore and I could see his cock throbbing as it demanded attention. "Need to be closer," I said as I sat up straight, leaning against the head of the bed for support. "Jump on," I requested, and Draco climbed onto my lap and lowered himself back onto my cock.

I secured him there with my hands on his hips and then he began to move. Just as I'd hoped, his lips were within easy reach of mine and I was able to pull him in close to me. Draco pumped himself up and down, working us both into a shivering mass of lust and want. He drew closer and closer to his limit and he dropped his head into my neck, crying out and biting into my flesh as he came. The combined sensations of Draco's tightening muscles and the erotic sting of his teeth bruising my skin pushed me quickly over the edge and I emptied myself into him.

We both collapsed back on to the mattress lost in a state of satisfied exhaustion and snuggled in close together. "Can we do that again tomorrow?" I asked, and he burbled an incoherent reply.

I chuckled, and then followed him into sleep.

"Weasley, you're supposed to be out at the front," Lucius snapped as he swirled into my tiny dressing room in his usual way.

Ron glared, but didn't dare argue. "See you down there, mate," he said to me, and then disappeared.

Remus frowned at Lucius, he still didn't quite trust him, and came over to fuss with my collar again. I tried to bat him away. "Don't you want to look nice?" he asked, and I begrudgingly let him straighten my robes.

"How's Draco?" I asked, glancing over to Lucius who looked unimpressed at my still-untamed hair.

"He's ready when you are," he replied, and flicked his wand to straighten out a small crease in my robes where I'd sat down.

"Sir, I was ready a year and a half ago," I smiled, and I tucked my wand into my sleeve. "Let's go."

Remus had been suspicious of Draco at first, but after seeing us together and hearing about the events leading up to the fall of the Dark Lord, he began to accept our relationship and grew to trust Draco. Lucius, on the other hand, Remus would never trust. As far as Remus was concerned, Lucius nearly killed me and that was all he needed to know. When the war finished and Remus was no longer away on missions for Dumbledore, he became a constant figure in my life, filling the role he felt duty bound to fill in the absence of my father. Today, he would escort me to Draco.

When I heard music resonate through the large white tent that was filled to the brim with our family and friends, my heart skipped in excitement and I had to stop myself from running down to meet Draco. I stepped out of my dressing room with Remus beside me and together we walked down the aisle created through the crowd. I saw Draco up ahead with Lucius, walking down to meet me, and again, all I wanted to do was run to him. Remus gripped my elbow to restrain me, and we walked calmly across the grass.

Draco grinned at me unrestrained, and I smiled back. We met in the middle and, flanked on either side by Remus and Lucius, we continued our journey, hand in hand, towards the altar where Dumbledore was waiting to wed us. Ron was there with Nott who held Tuck in his arms. Tuck had our rings in a small pouch tied around his wrist, but he only had eyes for his mum in the front row. Hermione and all the Weasleys sat in the front, my cousin Dudley had accepted my invitation and he sat bravely next to them, my Aunt and Uncle had declined to attend. Also at the front was Narcissa Malfoy, her sister Andi, and Draco's cousin Tonks, who was also Remus' heavily pregnant wife.

I was glad they were here, the day would be a perfect celebration, but truthfully, all I cared about was the soft squeeze and release of Draco's hand in mine. That small action explained to me his excitement, his nerves, and above all, his love.

Softly, I squeezed his hand back. _I love you too. _

_Author's Note: Awwwww... well, that's the end folks. Send us magical baked goods if you liked it!  
_


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